


The In Between

by Piper1016



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reunion, bethyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper1016/pseuds/Piper1016
Summary: I'm pretty sure at this point, I'm writing the same story just in different ways. Oh well. This has been in my Docs for a while. I thought by posting the first chapter it might make me keep writing it.My one shot, The Long Way Home, is kind of a prequel to this story if you want to read that one first.
Relationships: Bethyl - Relationship
Comments: 279
Kudos: 136





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Be nice. I'm rusty. (And not very good to begin with.)

Daryl never thought he'd set foot in this town again. He left a few years ago with no intention of returning.

The main drag through the center of town boasted a drug store, a grocery store, and a handful of other little shops. A coffee shop. A couple of churches tucked down the side roads, their steeples poking through the tree-lined streets. A truck stop that now posed as a brewery was further out of town, closer to the highway.

When he was growing up it was a one-horse town catering to farmers, ranchers, and alcoholics. Now it appeared tidier. No trash blowing on the breeze to speak of. The road was no longer more pothole than pavement. Blacktop stretched smoothly on for miles. Parking angled along the shops. The storefronts were stylish and clean showing the wares inside each particular store. Fancy clothes. Used books. Kitchenware. Even the coffee shop got a facelift. It boasted a new sign above its window - Greene's Coffee & Bakery was written in cursive against a white backdrop framed in hunter green. _Fancy schmancy_.

Time passes, life changes, he knew this much. Now that Merle was in prison, he needed to get away from his life in Atlanta. He cut ties and took off on his bike. No more dealing, smuggling, or doing, afraid he'd end up locked up alongside his brother. He dodged a bullet there and wasn't going to put himself in the line of fire again.

He roamed the Gulf for a while, down to the Panhandle. Went north along the east coast, spent some time with cousins in the Ozarks. Then found himself tired and worn out with nowhere to go and cash was running low. He could only think of one place to go.

Home.

That was a hard word. He wasn't sure what home meant to him anymore if he ever did. Technically, this was the place he grew up. This is where his home was, where he had practically burst at the seams wanting out of. When he saw an opportunity to split, he took it.

As he drove down Mainstreet, people meandered about, strolling along on the sidewalks, stopping to talk with one another or to look through one of the display windows of the shops. Children laughed and played in the playground. He could smell coffee wafting through the air. The whole town reeked of quaintness and wholesomeness and all things he thought he detested.

Shifting with his left foot into high gear, he revved the engine with his right hand, the mufflerless V-twin engine reverberating off the buildings lining either side of the road as he sped through the rest of town. Having seen enough, he didn't slow until he came to Rural Route 2, Dixon Lane as they called it because they were the only ones who lived down it

* * *

"Damn motorcycles," Dale grumbled, startled and splashing his coffee, black, no cream or sugar, out of his mug. "Sorry 'bout that Ms. Beth."

"Don't you worry about it," Beth said, wiping up the liquid with a white rag.

Dale had been coming to the coffee shop since they served black coffee and stale donuts. Hershel Greene had opened it to supplement the farm that had been in the family for generations that always seemed to be seeping money. In the past few years, it had surpassed what they ever thought it would and had become the family's main source of income.

As the town changed to a more tourist-driven family-friendly area, as time and money allowed they upgraded their equipment as well as their menu. It was now a place to get your coffee, from black to specialty frappuccino with skim milk and a double shot of espresso and everything in between. They also served muffins, donuts, pastries, cookies, and cakes made on the premises. It was a family run establishment, one they kept working to improve even after Hershel's death years ago.

"I swear those motorcycles get louder by the day," Dale complained.

"Oh, now Dale, you can't tell me you didn't cause up a stir when you were younger." She sent him a sweet smile. He tried to hide his grin with his cup of coffee but wasn't successful.

"How's that sweet little girl of yours?" Dale asked, changing the subject.

"She is wonderful," Beth boasted, a genuine smile brightening her face. "Wild as ever."

She really was wonderful and wild and Beth couldn't wait to get home to her. As much as she loved working at the coffee shop, the moment she left her she wanted to run back home. Beth worked from six am until two, four days a week. She did a bit of everything from baking to working on the books, scheduling, to making coffee, keeping contact with the customers, regulars and strangers alike.

She liked to think she and her little girl had a special bond, though she knew enough to know it was probably that way for most mothers and daughters. She hoped this to be true. Everyone should feel the love she feels for her daughter.

* * *

The house he grew up in was miles out of town down a dead-end dirt lane. Both his parents were gone, leaving him the property. It was the only thing he owned other than his bike. As he pulled down the lane and the house came into view, Daryl was surprised to see the house, a small shack with a tin roof was still standing. The dead grass was only ankle high. Luckily the heat had fried it, keeping it to a bearable height. The porch was falling off. He spent many an evening sitting on that small porch because it was too hot to stay inside. Smoking and thinking too much. Two windows on the opposite side of the front door were still intact. They stared at him like dark soulless eyes. Parking his bike he sat quietly for a moment having a staredown with those eyes, wondering if this was what he really wanted.

He was tired of wandering. Tired of the endless disconnect. Tired of always looking over his shoulder wondering if that was the last deal he'd ever make. Tired of worrying about pissing off the wrong tweaker.

This was it, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He dismounted the bike, ignoring the nigglings of doubt traipsing through his mind.

The afternoon sun waned on falling lower on the horizon as he repaired what he could. There was a shed with limited tools and materials. He fixed a hole in the roof with extra tin he found in the shed. He boarded up the small bathroom window that had given out over the years. Hacked down the ivy that had grown up almost completely covering the west wall of the house. He swept out all the dust and cobwebs from the inside. With what he found in the closet of the tiny bathroom, he made up the bed in the main bedroom with dusty smelling sheets.

At some point, he'd have to make a supply run to the home improvement store as well as the grocery store. He had called ahead and had the power turned back on and the fridge was cold enough when he put a two-liter of coke away that he had carried in the saddlebag of his motorcycle. Other than that and a few candy bars, a bag of trail mix, and a half eaten bag of Doritos he had no food.

Junk food was basically what he'd lived on for the last two years anyway, the grocery run could wait a bit. Beth always tried to scrounge up a decent meal. Daryl, being totally honest with himself, wasn't a great provider. If he was going with the whole honesty thing, he wasn't a great boyfriend either. Sometimes they'd have plenty of funds and plenty of the things those funds bought. Other times they'd be near destitute and more times than not they were destitute. Beth brought in what she could, working odd jobs here and there. It was never enough.

The problem was Merle. Separating what Daryl had from Merle was near impossible. Merle would lay a guilt trip on him or he'd just take what Daryl had saved saying how there was always more drugs to sell, more money to be made. Merle always somehow or another ended up spending every dime they made.

Daryl fell back onto the sofa, dust plumed into the air. He shut his eyes trying to block out any more thoughts of Beth or the disaster that he and Merle made of their lives. But his mind stayed on Beth and where she might be.

That's the trouble with going back to places you once left, it brought up too many damn memories. He forced himself up off the couch. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep and inevitably dream about Beth. The only way to avoid that, he'd learned over the last few years, was to fall into such a deep sleep he didn't remember a thing in the morning. Usually, a downer of some kind did the trick. Since he'd unofficially quit doing any drug he could get his hands on, he had to find other ways to cope.

He went to the tiny bedroom he and Merle had shared and in the closet, just as he suspected, his old crossbow teddered precariously on a single nail hammered into the wood. He'd left it behind when he took off not having room to carry it with him on his bike, doubting he would be needing it. He was right, he hadn't needed it. They lived in one dump after another usually smack dab in the city. There was no place to hunt in any of those places.

After spending the rest of the evening by the dimming light of the sky, the bow shot almost as good as new and after a few practice shots, dusting the rust out of his system, he was shooting pretty well, thinking maybe he wouldn't starve after all. It wasn't hunting season just yet but hunting without a license wasn't the worst thing he'd done in his life.


	2. Old Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the interest in this story! I love writing Bethyl.

"No. Don't you even think 'bout it girly," Beth warned.

The little girl Beth referred to peered at her over her shoulder, clutching her ever-present stuffed elephant under her arm. She froze. She was young but old enough to know what no meant.

"Billie,' Beth warned again. She could see the girl thinking over her options. Go for the bag of chips and get in trouble, or leave the chips and _not_ get in trouble.

They waited a few seconds before Billie relented and stepped away from the bag. "Good girl," Beth praised.

How did she even know she'd like Cheetos? Beth had never given her any. No doubt it was Uncle Glenn's doing. Always spoiling his niece with every kind of junk food he possibly could.

Now that Billie was walking (running and climbing too) Beth allowed her to walk next to the cart as they perused the aisles when the grocery store wasn't busy. If she got tired of walking or started to get into mischief she'd have to go back in the cart. Last week, as Beth was busy loading their items onto the conveyor belt at check out, she got a hold of a bag of M&M's and managed to rip it open before Beth realized what happened, spilling the M&M's into the air and all over the floor.

Thankfully they knew the owner of the store well and no one minded. Carol insisted she take a fresh bag home after they had cleaned up the mess. Beth shoved the new bag into her purse to dole out only a few at a time.

This week Beth made sure to watch her closer to prevent another mishap. To be on the safe side, she hefted Billie up on her hip and continued their shopping, pushing the cart with her free hand. Billie rested her head on Beth's shoulder. It was almost nap time and she was getting tired.

"Aw a few Cheetos won't hurt, will it?"

Beth turned toward the voice. "They're basically salt and air." She told Carol, smiling. "No nutritional content at all."

Carol laughed affectionately, reaching out to run a hand over Billie's back. "Well, they're only little once. An occasional Cheeto won't hurt none."

Beth saw the wistful look in Carol's eyes. Some people try to tell a young mom how to parent their child. Not carol. Carol cared for Billie and wanted her to be happy. Even if it met allowing her to have junk food. Just as Glenn does.

"I know, Carol. I know," Beth rolled her eyes amicably.

"You know if you ever need a beak all you gotta do is ask. I promise to feed her only 'nutritional' foods," Carol suggested helpfully, teasing her a bit, using air quotes.

Carol was lonely, or so Beth guessed. She lost her husband Ezekiel the year before and their son as well as her daughter were teens and busy with school and sports. Beth should take her up on the offer, she _could_ use a break, but she felt Billie was no one else's responsibility than her own. Leaving her with Glenn or Maggie or her mother while she worked was enough time away and she felt guilty enough about that.

Not wanting to hurt Carol's feelings, Beth graciously sidestepped the question with a " _Yes, thanks so much for the offer,"_ before continuing with their shopping.

Billie was almost asleep by the time Beth buckled her into her carseat. "There you go baby girl," Beth murmured, handing her the stuffed elephant. "Here's Ellie."

She snuggled with the plush toy and closed her eyes. So much for waiting until they got home for a nap. Their errands took longer than expected and because of that Billie will sleep in the car on the way home and inevitably wake up the second they pull into the driveway at home. Murphy's law.

Oh well, maybe she'll drive extra slow and enjoy the quiet ride home. Motherhood was exhausting work, something she wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Straightening the buckles on Billie's car seat, she was so caught up in thought that she didn't pay any mind to the loud motorcycle making its way through town once again.

* * *

Daryl mostly kept to himself. He didn't have many friends that weren't involved with drug running. When he quit the club, those friends that weren't really friends faded away. Those who remained, except for a couple, he didn't consider to be close and hadn't spoken with in a long time.

He had acquaintances, people he grew up with. Those had, for the most part, moved away or were married with kids. Or married and divorced and remarried with more kids. They didn't want a guy like Daryl around.

He preferred it this way. He'd always been a loner, always following Merle around. He was the quiet one to his loud and voiceterious brother counterpart. When he was with Merle people hardly noticed him. Except for Beth. She noticed him.

Now that he was truly alone with nothing to distract his mind, Beth was at the forefront. Always.

He kept himself busy working on projects on the house. Hunting. Fishing. Scoping out new places to hunt or fish. He always managed to be tired by the end of the day but as soon as he'd lay down it was like hitting a switch and he was unable to sleep.

When night would come and sleep evaded him, the words _now what_ kept running through his mind. Merle was put away for the indefinite future, what the hell was he supposed to do now that he no longer had Merle's misguided direction?

He reminded himself that he was a grown man. He didn't need his brother directing his life. He often wondered what his life would have been like if he had figured that earlier. Would he and Beth still be together? Living in a small, cute house with yellow siding and white shutters like she so badly wanted.

He lay there staring at the graying ceiling night after night, watching as the moon's shadow pass from one corner to the other. Thoughts and memories made his chest tighten painfully. That's the problem with coming home, old ghosts came out to haunt you.

. . .

Laying in bed, Beth tried to focus on the book she was reading, her eyes getting heavier and heavier. It was just past ten and she could barely keep them open. Sometimes she felt years beyond her age. Billie had been asleep for two hours and by the time Beth took a shower, threw in one last load of laundry to be put into the dryer in the morning, picked up a few remaining toys and crawled into bed she had to force herself to get in a couple of chapters of whatever book she happened to be reading.

She's always been an avid reader and refused to let it go. She was a much slower reader now and whereas she used to enjoy romance novels, she found they just frustrated her now. Their unbelievable plots and cheesy characters were just a reminder of what she didn't have.

Happily ever after did not exist.

Beth didn't feel she was being cynical as Maggie accused her of. (And wasn't that rich coming from Maggie?) Beth preferred the term realist. When she left town with Daryl she naively thought they could make it work. They could defy the odds. That turned into a disaster.

She'd been on only one date since Billie's birth. A blind date, someone Glenn's coworker knew. The man drank too much at dinner and expected Beth to let him drive her home. She flatly refused and began walking back to the farm, too embarrassed to call anyone for a ride. Luckily Otis, their farmhand for as long as Beth could remember, was on his way to the farm and saw her walking and offered a ride. She lied and told him she had car trouble and he was kind enough not to question it. That one date a year ago was enough to turn her off of dating for a good long time.

Sure, she knew people that were happily married. Glenn and Maggie. Her parents were married for years and still would be today if her father hadn't died. Still, she knew far more people that were divorced or in unhappy relationships.

Beth didn't have time for a relationship that would probably end badly. She had a fulfilling job. A supportive family. She had a daughter to raise. She was determined to make the best life she could for Billie. And in the meantime, she stuck with nonfiction and true crime. No more romance novels.

Giving up on the book she set it on the nightstand and turned out the light and stared at the ceiling for another couple of hours before she finally dozed off into a restless sleep.

* * *

Time was different here. Daryl remembered feeling the same time warp when he was young. It dragged, the days sometimes feeling like weeks. The nights were a standstill, bringing along with them dreams. Dreams that were vivid and reoccurring. Mostly of Beth. Other times they were of his childhood. Or of Merle and the day he was arrested.

Like Beth, Merle just didn't come home except he didn't leave a cryptic note. Then word got around and someone, days later, finally thought to contact Daryl to let him know that Merle had been busted. Just like that, the two most important people in his life disappeared.

He felt he was to blame on both counts. The pill's had distorted everything and he let Beth slip through his numb fingers. He chose pills over her like the fool he was. And Merel, as far as Daryl was concerned, was busted because of him. If he'd been there, maybe things would have played out differently.

Now here he was stuck in this time-sucking purgatory he'd created for himself. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop _thinking_. Being back here brought everything to the forefront and without anything to the dull the pain he had to figure out a way to deal with it while he was stuck in this weird place of the in between. In between then and now. In between the drugs and now. In between Beth and now.

* * *

It was a month before Daryl caught a glimpse of any of the Greene's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, leaving a comment. :)


	3. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! This chapter was finished so I thought I'd post it with the 2nd chapter since it's a little shorter.

It was a month before Daryl caught a glimpse of any of the Greene's. It was bound to happen sooner or later, he supposed. He didn't want to admit he was avoiding them, but he was. He was sure he wasn't their most favorite people. Why make life harder for them or himself?

One day his luck ran out and he found himself at the lumber yard setting up a delivery of supplies to fix the dilapidated porch when none other than Shawn Greene came through the open bay door.

It was a large pole barn style building with an open area in the middle, cash registers to the right, and shelving units full of anything and everything you'd need home repair related. He was on the other side of a shelving unit stacked high with lumber of varying sizes when he spotted Shawn. He stood where he was, watching through the slats of shelves.

Shawn was with some guy. Dark hair and a baseball cap. Daryl didn't recognize him. He wasn't a Greene and no one he recognized from before he left town.

He figured at some point he would run into one of them. He really hoped to make himself scarce enough that it wouldn't happen. That was naive on his part. They'd lived in this town for generations. Hershel had died years ago before he and Beth got together, and Annette, Maggie, Shawn, and Beth stayed on at the farm, their roots set deep in the soil.

He wasn't about to speak to them, so like a coward, he stayed hidden.

It had only been a few years but Shawn looked more like his dad than Daryl remembered. His dark hair and beard were stranded with white. There were creases around his eyes and he was no longer a scrawny kid. He'd grown up, filled out into a man.

The man in the hat grabbed a flatbed cart and Shawn pointed to the opposite end of the store. He couldn't hear what was being said over the din of other people's conversations and the loud music playing over the speakers. And then his hand shifted and he set up a quick wave.

Daryl followed the direction of the wave and what he saw next made him suck in a sharp breath.

Beth walked through the bay door, momentarily stopping before catching sight of Shawn and the other man and made her way toward them.

Her hair was long, pulled back in a casual ponytail at the nape of her neck She wore a loose tank top and shorts that cut midthigh. She looked good, great actually. Different, more mature. More confident in herself.

What struck him was how healthy she looked. The perpetual dark circles under her eyes were gone. The constant worry that creased her brow was erased. She was still thin, just no longer sickly thin, her hips curved seductively.

Beyond all that though, she carried a baby on her hip. Not a baby. Maybe a little older. A toddler? He knew nothing about children or guessing their ages. Dark hair was pulled up into pigtails sticking spritely from the tops of her head. She wore a bright pink polka dot shirt over pink shorts. Her little feet were covered with the tiniest tennis shoes he'd ever seen.

She beamed up at Beth, clutching a ragged stuffed elephant. When she saw Shawn and the man, Beth set her on the floor and she ran on tiny little legs to them. The man kneeled and picked her up, swinging her up into the air as she squealed in delight.

Daryl forced himself to look away. This was none of his concern so he backed off into the shadows making his exit out the side door without being seen.

He didn't think Beth would come back home. She wanted so badly to be on her own and away from this tiny town. Just as he did.

People change. They grow up. They realize how important family is, he supposed. He sure missed Merle no matter how big of an asshole he was. It made sense that she came back here and he was willfully blind to not see that.

* * *

Beth watched as Billie ran up to Glenn, greeting him and then Shawn. She would be forever grateful to Glenn for treating her little girl like she was the most important little girl in his life. Shawn too. They picked up where a father would have left off as much as they were able to. The family had rallied around her and Billie, supporting them unconditionally. She wasn't sure how she managed to be without them those few years she was gone.

Glenn wasn't a part of the picture when she left. Maggie had always claimed she was never going to get married, never going to settle down. That proclamation went right out the window when she met Glenn. While Beth was gone the two married six months after meeting.

Beth wasn't angry, felt like she had no right to be, that her mother hadn't mentioned that Maggie had gotten married in one of their few and far in between phone calls. Annette apologized but felt it wasn't her place to tell Beth. And Maggie had never quite gotten over her anger at Beth for leaving so she felt Beth didn't need to know. According to Maggie, Beth deserted them and their family. In some ways, Beth agreed.

The sisters decided to let bygones be bygones and just pick up where they left off and Glenn quickly became a brother to Beth. He was always there, solid and reliable. Offering to run to the store for whatever weird concoction Beth was craving or stopping at the ice cream parlor for a shake. He was a good man with a good heart and he treated Maggie well. When Billie came, he easily stepped into the spot of uncle.

Today she met Glenn and Shawn at the lumber yard to purchase supplies for a bed frame. She'd been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Bed frames were expensive and it was one of those things that weren't really a necessity and it definitely wasn't in her budget. Shawn claimed he can build one for less than twenty bucks. It wouldn't be fancy, he claimed, but it would be functional. Functional worked fine for Beth.

As always Billie was excited to see her uncle's and ran directly to them, being picked up by Glenn then passed her over to Shawn who plopped her down onto the L-cart, giving her a ride through the store while gathering the supplies they needed..

Little did she know who was watching just behind a shelf piled high with 2x4's. Little did they know how much their lives were about to change.

* * *

Daryl laid low for the next few days, trying not to think of Beth or the little girl that was with her, which was impossible. He thought of Beth every single day since she disappeared from his life. She left a note saying she had to leave and not to follow her. He respected her wishes to an extent.

This was different though. Actually seeing her made her real again. Not just part of his aching memories.

Finally, on the fourth day, he woke up midmorning, sat up straight out of a dream where Beth was walking away and he was stuck motionless, unable to move, his feet cemented to the ground. He reached for her, called her name; _Beth, Beth_. She didn't hear him or didn't want to hear him because she kept walking away until she was enveloped by the darkness that surrounded him.

He got to his feet and grabbed his pack and stuffed the few things he owned inside. A few shirts, another pair of jeans. Socks, boxers. From the bathroom, he took his toothbrush and toothpaste and the bottle of shampoo and body soap he'd gotten from a dollar store somewhere along the way. They went into a ziplock bag and into the pack as well. He took his bow from its spot near the door and strapped it around his torso. He ignored the food in the fridge and closed up the windows, locked the door as he exited the house. He climbed on his bike and took off, tossing dirt and tiny pebbles into the air behind him.

This was too difficult. He couldn't _deal_. Beth had gone on with her life, transitioning from the girlfriend of a druggie to that of a respectable mother. The last thing she needed was her past hanging around town like some sort of derelict shadow.

It was the last thing he needed as well. All the memories that wouldn't leave him alone, the dreams. Everywhere he turned, there he was with Beth years ago. When they were younger and together and in love. The drugs weren't an issue yet. He was selling but it was more to make a few hundred bucks here or there, it wasn't a full-time gig yet. There was no jail. There was no guy in a baseball cap. There was no baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading. Leave a comment if you feel inclined to do so. ;)


	4. Blue Eyed Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little note. There are no perfect people in this story. Well, except for maybe Glenn. (sad face, RIP.) But Beth is not perfect and neither is Daryl. Please keep that in mind while reading and don't hate on them. lol   
> Thanks for reading!

When Daryl reached town, he drove slower than the twenty-five mile per hour posted speed limit as he drove past the coffee shop. No one was there. It didn't open on Sundays till noon and it was barely eleven. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He knew Beth didn't work on Sundays.

He remembered how he'd wait for her to get off work. She'd be so happy to see him, beaming her smile he felt she saved just for him. She'd throw her arms around his shoulders and bury her face into his neck. He acted tough. Acted as though it didn't affect him. But it did. It was the highlight of his day, seeing her and her unabashed love for him. He only let his guard down when it was just the two of them. She knew how he felt about her. Didn't she? He cursed his stubbornness now, his inability to just say how he felt, and his reluctance to show Beth the attention she needed.

Leaving town was one of his greatest regrets, ranking right up there with allowing things to get to the point where she walked out on him. If they stayed, who was to say if they would still be together. He'd like to think they would be.

Finally, he picked up speed as he left town. He didn't consciously drive past the coffee shop, past all the other stores, and then out of town.

He didn't purposefully take a right at the first road either. It wasn't his intention to take a left and drive five more miles. He didn't _want_ to turn down the lane that the Greene family farm was located on. It just sort of happened through no fault of his own.

And that was all bullshit. Plain and simple, he _needed_ to see Beth. Needed to find out who that little girl was. The need to do both was equal.

* * *

Beth heard the distant slow rumble of a motorcycle heading down their road. Nostalgia washed over her and a memory so vivid it could have happened yesterday buzzed in her brain of her and Daryl flying out of town on his bike. She clung tightly to his waist as her hair flew in the wind. They had no idea where they were heading, but they were going there together.

Her mind shifted to a few days ago when she was cleaning the front window of the shop and someone flew through town on a motorcycle. By the time her eyes were able to catch up to the person they were well past her. There was something familiar about the bike as well as the driver. The dark blue racing stripe across the rear fender, the driver's dark shaggy hair sticking out from under the half helmet. The broad shoulders. All the other times she heard the rumble of a muffler in recent weeks - it could have been anybody, just like now, she thought. But she knew everyone that traveled this road frequently. None of them owned a Harley. They were all older farmers. They drove old trucks and even older tractors.

She found herself unable to move or breathe. Panic rose from her belly and infiltrated her lungs. She sat stock-still on the sofa, breath stuck in her chest, Billie playing on the floor in front of her. The family going about their business unbeknownst to them what was happening to Beth.

As the sound grew closer, the vibration of the motor echoed in her chest. Her body remembered the sound just as vividly as her mind did. And when she heard the engine slow and the crunch tires on the pebbles of the driveway, the cut of the engine she stayed where she was on the couch. When the clunk of boots climbed the three steps to the door, she couldn't move even if she wanted to.

When there was finally a knock, she let Glenn answer it. It was only when he called her name did she force herself to move.

* * *

He parked his bike next to the other vehicles in the drive, taking his bow from his back he leaned it against the bike and slowly, mechanically, without thinking, made his way up the steps and found himself knocking on the screen door. He recognized the person who appeared on the other side as the guy from the store. Short, small in stature. He held his chin up though, not in the least intimidated by the random biker that came unexpectedly calling.

"We thought you'd show up sooner," the man said.

Daryl was surprised but didn't let it show. Whoever this guy was, he apparently knew who Daryl was. They stared each other down, the guy waiting him out. Unable to find his voice for a few seconds Daryl finally grumbled, "Is Beth here?"

Part of him hoped she wasn't. She might not live here for all he knew. He did know what she drove, though and that older model Tahoe was now parked in the driveway. If she wasn't here, then he wouldn't have to confront her. Wouldn't have to see her and resist the urge to touch her, to gather her close so she could rightfully push him away. If she wasn't there, she could stay locked in his memory for a little bit longer.

For all his hoping she wasn't there, he felt nothing but relief to find out she was.

The man sighed, turned, and spoke loudly as though she was in another area of the house, "Beth, someone's here to see you."

When she appeared at the door, her hand stilled on the door frame. She stared, her eyes boring into him through the mesh screen.

"You want me to stay?" The man asked standing next to her, a hand of solidarity on her bent elbow.

"No thanks, I'm okay Glenn."

Glenn. So, he has a name. There was a comfort between the two of them. He peered at Beth uncertainly, as though he was questioning whether he should actually leave her or not, before nodding and disappearing further into the shadows of the house leaving Beth and Daryl finally alone.

Through the screen, she asked, "What are you doin' here?"

It wasn't necessarily spoken in a bad way given what a shock this must be. She didn't know what he wanted. Hell, he didn't even know exactly what he wanted. He understood her tone.

"Can I talk to ya?" He asked.

What exactly he'd say, he didn't know. He'd never been a planner and it never occurred to him to mind up until that moment. Maybe he should have called? Sent a letter. Or a carrier pigeon. Something other than just showing up one Sunday morning out of the clear frigging blue.

She finally pushed the door open and stood on the porch, crossing her arms impatiently over her chest. He took a step back to give her space. And to be out of swinging distance, just in case.

"I'm sure you thought you'd never see me again," he began.

"That's an understatement." She exhaled on a dry, humorous laugh. When he didn't so much as crack a smile, she backpedaled. "I'm sorry." So many questions raced through her mind. What was he doing here? What did he want? Did he know? The sarcasm didn't quite leave her voice when she said, "This is just a bit of a surprise."

He stood there, looking at his boots, not saying a word until Beth's nerves got the better of her.

"Well?" she asked expectantly, waiting for him to fill her in on his sudden appearance.

Bristling at her less than enthusiastic disposition, he grumbled, "You left me girly, so don't be gettin' all huffy."

It was a low blow. It wasn't a fair thing to throw in her face. It's not like he'd been worth hanging onto. Their relationship started to take a back seat to everything else. Their arguing had become a common occurrence. They'd become one of those couples that fought more than they talked. After all this time, he hadn't expected her to greet him with open arms. Her unwelcoming cool edge made it harder than he thought it'd be. Should he grovel? Try to hug her? Apologize?

Keeping his distance seemed to be the best option.

"Yeah, I was really hard to find if you wanted to." She said. "I went back home, not to another country. Besides, was it _really_ that much of a shock I left?" As far as she knew, he didn't look for her. Not so much as a call. She'd spent these years wondering if she meant so little to him that her leaving was only a tiny speed bump in his life?

"I dunno." Things were strained, he knew that much. Bad enough for her leave? He wasn't sure about that. He and Merle were getting deeper and deeper into dealing. Sometimes using more than they were selling. Times were tough. "I thought this was the last place you'd go," he spoke quieter. "If I remember correctly, you wanted out of this town almost more than I did."

It was an excuse. A lame, less than an efficient excuse. The truth was he was so mixed up on drugs and Merle's influence, he didn't know what to do. Chase after her, or let her go? Letting her go seemed to be the best answer at the time, it seemed to be what she wanted.

"Where else would I go? This is my home."

He was right, she wanted out too. When they left, she was full of rebellion and wanted nothing more than to be out on her own, away from her boring life here. Young and in love, she just wanted to be wherever Daryl was. Naively she thought their love was strong enough to withstand anything.

"I don't rightfully know where you'd go." More proof he didn't know her nearly as well as he thought he did. And maybe he was a tiny bit - okay, a lot, afraid. She left him, she obviously wanted nothing to do with him. If he chased after her and she shot him down, he wasn't sure he'd recover. He barely got out of the last few years with his life as it was.

She sighed heavily hearing the painful ache in his voice. It hurt her knowing she put that ache there even after all these years. Anger fizzled out of her like air from a balloon. Tears filled her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Daryl and he equally didn't want to be responsible for those tears, so she stifled them along with everything else she was feeling.

"I couldn't live that way any longer. I guess I grew up. I _had_ to grow up," she said.

He took a step toward her. "For what it's worth, I am sorry. Ya' coulda' told me you weren't happy."

"I tried to tell you. I tried to tell you so many things."

Over the years she thought of all the different scenarios with different endings. All the things she might say to him if their paths ever crossed again. Picturing herself being distantly cool, confident, and happy in her life. Not needing him. Dismissing him with a cool _Nice to see you again,_ before turning her back on him _._ Currently, she _was_ happy in her life, at the same time there was a voided crevice where Daryl should be. One that never healed. She found herself still aching for him. Seeing him in person only made it worse.

"I'm not the person I used to be, Beth." For some reason, it seemed important that she know this. Even if it was a lame non-apology of sorts.

"What changed?" She asked. Why suddenly would he stop trailing his brother, doing anything Merle said to do?

He shrugged, shuffled from one foot to the other. "Everything went to hell. You left," he said simply. "Then Merle got busted."

She gasped audibly. She wasn't expecting that. For all his downsides, Merle was extremely cunning. Always a step or two ahead of the law. She wanted to reach for Daryl, touch him. Extend her sympathies because he must be lost without his brother.

"He'll be in jail a long time. It could have just as easily been me that got busted." He looked at her pleadingly, his blue eyes boring intently into hers. "I lost so much when you left and then Merel was just," he gestured with his hand. "He was just gone, like you."

They stood quietly in each other's pain realizing they both handled things wrong. Nothing was black and white, cut and dry. People made mistakes. Beth saw sincere regret in his eyes and wondered, not for the first time if mistakes couldn't be forgiven? Though she was reluctant to believe him, people could start over, couldn't they? People could change.

Suddenly a child's cries could be heard from inside the house and Annette appeared at the screen door. She looked the same, hadn't aged a day. On her hip was the same little girl Beth had with her earlier.

Annette paused in her tracks when she saw Daryl standing on her front porch. She nodded slightly. Said his name cooly in greeting. "Daryl."

He nodded in response, looked back to his boots.

Then to Beth, she said, "I'm sorry to interrupt but this little girl won't be comforted by me today." Billie loved her grandparents and her aunt and uncle's but she was a Mama's girl. Beth kept her on a tight schedule and it was almost naptime.

"It's fine, Ma'. I'll take her."

Daryl reluctantly stepped away from Beth so she could retrieve Billie. Annette looked from Beth to Daryl and reluctantly disappeared back inside. The little girl instantly settled against Beth's shoulder, sniffling, rubbing her damp eyes.

When Beth turned to face Daryl again he eyed them suspiciously. Beth was the one that was a different person. She was a mom now. His stomach did a weird somersault and his heart skipped a beat before restarting again, thudding hard against his chest.

Seeing the little girl at a distance was different than seeing her up close. She peered at him through curious tired blue eyes that were identical to her mothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again! Leave a comment if you'd like.


	5. Billie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A good sized angsty chapter! Hope you like it. Thanks for reading!

**Well, a good sized angst-filled chapter. Hope you like it! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"This is Billie," Beth said for lack of anything else to say, running her free hand over Billie's wild hair. All the other words that probably should be spoken refused to come to mind. What does one say in this situation?

"Billie," he said, trying the name out for himself.

A long time ago when they were first together and things were simpler - before they left town together, before the pills and drugs and too much alcohol - they lay together on a blanket, looking out through the upper-level door of the barn, the sky so vast they felt like the only ones on the planet They discussed things that seemed eons away.

" _One day if we have a baby girl, we should name her Billie."_

_They'd just had mind-numbingly amazing sex and Daryl was half asleep. To the opposite, Beth seemed charged with energy._

" _Kids? What the hell, Beth. You're barely twenty years old," he mumbled._

_She sighed, disappointed that he didn't want to talk about their fictitious children._

" _Billie? Why Billie?" He quickly asked, trying to remedy her disappointment. Anything to make her happy. "Isn't that a boy's name?"_

_She laughed, lightly elbowing him in the ribs. "It can be either. My grandma's name was Bernadette. Everyone called her Billie. I always liked it."_

_Daryl thought about it for a moment. "Yeah. I like that." He tightened his grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer to ward off the chill in the midnight air. "You gotta promise me one thing."_

" _What's that?" She asked. Whatever he wanted she'd gladly give him._

" _That she'll be exactly like you."_

Just because she named the baby Billie didn't mean she was his. That shared moment in time might mean nothing to her. She probably wiped it from her memory.

"After your grandma?" He asked.

She smiled faintly, surprised that he remembered. "Yes."

Being a foot away from her, Billie did favor Beth. He also saw himself in her. The dark unruly hair. The Dixon nose. Similar facial structure. Maybe it was his imagination. Maybe he _wanted_ her to resemble him. Maybe he wanted her to be his, which shocked the hell out of him. Interestingly, she looked nothing like that Glenn guy.

"How old is she?" He asked with a jut of his chin, grinding his back teeth, afraid. Afraid she was the right age to be his. Afraid she wasn't the right age.

Beth mauled over this question. Not because she didn't know the answer. She knew how old Billie was down to the hour, she stalled because she wondered how much information to disclose.

She was one that left without notice taking nothing but the few things she owned when she left the dump of a house in Atlanta they were sharing with Merle and whoever else happened to be crashing there at the time. She walked to the bus station and bus hopped her way home.

Because of the way she left things guilt already followed her around, a constant companion. Did she really want to lie about this? And if she did lie and he didn't believe her and decided to pursue the matter, it'd be easy enough to find out the truth.

"Almost two."

If his timeline was correct, that Glenn guy couldn't be her father. Could he? Unless Beth came home and hooked up with him right away. That wasn't Beth's way though. Not the Beth he knew anyway.

_Man up Dixon, ask the question you came here to ask._

"Is she?" His throat closed up. The words wouldn't come.

"Is she yours?" She finished the question for him.

For a selfish split second Beth briefly again thought of lying. Billie was hers! No one else's. But that wasn't true either. Billie was her own person that deserved both a mom and dad. What good would lying do? Lies always eventually caught up to you.

Nuzzling into Billie's neck, Beth breathed the familiar scent in. She closed her eyes, gathering strength. "She's yours, Daryl," she whispered. The words so light they were almost swept away in the light summer breeze. She hoped somehow he didn't hear what she said.

He heard her alright. Clear as day. The buzzing cicadas, the chirping grasshoppers, the far off muffled voices from the house all faded away. It was like getting punched in the gut. He couldn't breathe. His vision blurred. His knees weakened. His life suddenly flipped upside down by three little words.

The seconds dragged on.

"I need to get her to bed," she finally said when he didn't respond. They both had a lot to mull over and they weren't getting anywhere.

Beth suddenly felt very, very tired. She'd been holding this information in for over two years. Now that it was out, it was like a tornado had hit a house, her being the house, leaving in its wake nothing but debris and fragments of the life she built.

She was almost to the door when she halted and turned to face him again. _Do the right thing, Bethany, make good choices_ , her father's words sounded in her mind.

"If you want, call me tomorrow and we can talk. My number hasn't changed."

* * *

Beth had to tear herself away from Billie that night. She stood watch over her crib for an hour irrationally afraid she might disappear before her eyes. When she finally did retreat to her own room, she lay sleepless for yet another night, Daryl's visit playing over and over in her mind. She had no clue he was back in town. Unusual for such a small town where news travels fast. She ran the coffee shop, the hub of gossip. She couldn't believe no one told her.

The last time she saw him, a little short of three years ago, she had just taken a pregnancy test.

_She did try to tell him. He stood in the doorway of their house in Atlanta, a hand impatiently on his hip. Backpack packed, ready to go. Merle yelling from the driveway._

" _Come on, already!'_

_Daryl looked in the direction of the driveway and Merle._

" _Can't you stay? I got something I want to talk to you 'bout._ " _Beth asked, holding back tears that perplexed her. Shouldn't this be a happy moment? Instead, the knot in her stomach hardened making her nauseous._

" _I can't. Merle's waitin'."_

" _Daryl." She hated the way her voice had a slight whine to it. They weren't even married and already she was playing the part of a nagging wife._

" _Beth," he mimicked._

_She bit her tongue, holding back her anger._

_Daryl took the few steps to where she sat on the ratty sofa. Hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up, placing a quick kiss on her lips._

" _Gotta go, babe."_

" _How long are you going to be?"_

_She was past nagging wife territory and slipped into smoldering rage. If he noticed he didn't let on, making her all the more mad._

" _Don't know." His words were punctuated by Merle bellowing, "Get a move on!"_

_Daryl obviously had better things to tend to. Angry and hurt, Beth told him nevermind, allowing him to leave without telling him about the baby._

_She gave him three days to come home. Sometimes he and Merle would be gone for a few hours. Sometimes a week. She didn't like being left alone for days at a time. Not that she couldn't manage. She made it to her crappy waitressing job as well as the laundry mat and grocery store when needed. But they didn't live in a safe neighborhood. People would often come by looking for Merle, making her feel uncomfortable when they'd leer at her a little too long._

_Beth wasn't stupid, she knew slinging pills wasn't legal. She didn't ask Daryl for specifics and he didn't offer up any information. Early on if she inquired as to what they were doing or where they were doing, he claimed it was better that she didn't know. It was safer. Stupidly she thought it was sweet, his protecting her like that._

_At one point Daryl installed a deadbolt as well as a chain on the door. She kept it locked and kept the Browning knife Daryl had given her strapped to her belt at all times._

_This time being alone felt different. It felt more like a desertion when she needed him the most. She told herself If he wasn't back in three days' time, she'd leave. That was a lie. She knew she had to go and she wanted to leave before he got back. If she had to look him in the eye, she'd never be able to leave._

_On the morning of day three, she wrote a letter, packed a bag and left._

_She had rewritten that letter half a dozen times. No words were adequate. Apologies weren't enough so she kept it short and to the point._

" _I love you, but this isn't working. I'm sorry._

_"Don't try to find me."_

Forcing Daryl to face the music, so to speak, wouldn't have worked in their favor. She could see how it would play out before it even happened. He'd probably end up hating her for the rest of their lives and she couldn't bear the thought. She imagined Daryl coming in and out of the baby's life. Sometimes sober, sometimes not. It wasn't what she imagined for her life or the life of any child she'd bring into the world.

So she left, returning home feeling like her life was over. Now years later, she could say it was the right decision. There was no doubt in her mind that environment was not fit to raise a child in. Billie deserved better. Going home was right, but she wasn't sure if excluding Daryl from Billie's life completely had been the right choice.

One thing she knew for sure was nothing was easy, especially where your child is concerned. She just wanted to do the right thing yet she had no idea what that was.

* * *

Beth didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that Daryl didn't call the next day, or the next or even the week after.

It was his move, but the fact he hadn't called hurt her deeper than she'd ever admit aloud. She was willing to concede that she had told him a major life changing thing. Going from nothing to having a toddler was a lot to take in. Yes, it was a lot but his non-response did nothing to ease her worries.

Had she made a mistake by telling him? Would he go after her for custody? Is that why he hadn't contacted her - because he was discussing what his options were with a lawyer? Would she have to leave her baby girl, whom she was practically attached to, and rarely been away from except for work since the day she was born?

It was no secret she was protective of Billie. She never left her with a sitter that wasn't family. She went from work to home. Socially if she couldn't bring Billy with her, she didn't go. She wasn't interested in going out for a 'girls night' like some of her friends tried to talk her in to. Other than that one disaster of a blind date she hadn't dated since she left Daryl. Not that many men were interested in a woman with a baby on her hip. If someone did show interest in her she did her best not to lead them on, treading the line between friendly and distant.

Her main concern was Billie and she was completely fine with that. Billie came first.

Sure it was sometimes lonely. Seeing Glenn dote on Maggie made Beth's heartache a little. Not that she was jealous. She was happy for her sister. She couldn't help if her mind sometimes wandered and she'd wonder if she would ever find what Maggie and Glenn had. Find what she and Daryl once had before everything went to hell.

Then she'd look and Billie and she'd smile at Beth and all that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Billie was happy.

Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Maybe Daryl decided he didn't want to be a part of Billie's life. Maybe it was for the better. But if it was for the better then why did she find herself disappointed? Not just for Billie but for herself as well.

* * *

Another few days went by when early one morning as she was unlocking the back door to the coffee house the tinge of sweet tobacco caught her attention. Spinning around on her heel, she found herself face to face with Daryl.

She couldn't try to count the number of times all those years ago he waited there in the alley for her to get off work so they could go for a ride on his bike or her car if the weather was bad. No matter which they'd always end up wrapped around one another. Their desire for one another was incomparable to anything she'd felt before or since.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she waited for him to speak. It was immature but it was his turn to talk. He owed her that little.

Of course he didn't speak, only nodded his head, flicking a cigarette onto the damp concrete below. She turned her back to him again and finished unlocking the door. Once she was inside, she went to the office with Daryl following. Dropping her bag onto the desk, she stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest trying to hide the slight tremor that ran through her body.

To his credit, he looked like hell. Like he hadn't slept in the time she'd last seen him. The bill of his hat didn't hide his hallowed, dark rimmed eyes. His shirt was loose and wrinkled underneath that damn vest with the angel wings on the back he still wore. She knew exactly how the worn leather would feel under her fingers, the scent of motor oil that was imprinted into it.

Looking him up and down in his worn jeans, biker boots, shaggy hair, piercing blue eyes and strong, broad shoulders it was clear her attraction towards him hadn't faded over time. She had missed him. She missed his hands, rough calloused running over her bare skin. She missed his rumbly voice saying her name. She missed his smell.

She stood straighter, trying to strengthen her resolve. She was no longer alone. She had a child to think about and couldn't let an attraction steer her in the wrong direction.

He wandered around the office, going to the doorway to look out into the front room where they served customers. "Everything's different but somehow the same."

"Listen I'd really like to reminisce but I gotta work," she told him, her tone cold and clipped.

"Ya know I had my bags packed when I came to see you. I was planning on taking off instead of going to the farm. But I had to see you."

"Why?" She questioned.

He rose a shoulder in indifference. Then spun around so fast Beth had to force herself not to flinch at the sudden movement.

A myriad of emotions surged through his veins. Anger was the easiest, the emotion he was most used to, so he went with that. "You flipped my world upside fucking down, ya' realize that? "

Those three words; _she's yours, Daryl._ So small yet so insurmountable.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to show up at my door. I was a little caught off guard and didn't quite know what to say. Did you want me to lie? I mean, it's obvious isn't it?" Beth placed her hands on her desk, looking down at nothing really. Looking at him was just too hard.

Speaking more to herself than Daryl, she said, "She looks so much like you sometimes it takes my breath away."

"You shoulda told me," he said through gritted teeth. His eyes sparked with fury.

She wasn't the only one angry, apparently. Maybe his anger was a good thing? It showed he cared. Or that he was pissed. Probably both.

"And when do you suggest a good time would have been? In between runs? Or before or after you'd just taken oxy or Xanax or whatever the hell your drug of choice was?" She rounded the desk, faced him no matter how much it hurt. "When I left, you were a drug dealer in a biker gang. Not an ideal situation to raise a baby. I couldn't risk it."

"That ain't fair. We coulda' figured it out."

She wasn't so sure about that. Even when she was pregnant she felt a primitive instinct to protect the child she carried. She was afraid he'd end up hating her but, even worse, no child should feel like a burden.

"You were in a bad place at that time," she reminded him. "We all were. You, Merle, and _me_. I had to make a decision based on what was best for the baby."

Daryl's voice rose. "You had no right."

"No right to do what? Protect my child?" She yelled back.

Once, a long time ago, Daryl said one of the reasons she appealed to him was because she wasn't scared of him. She gave him back whatever he put out. She didn't cower when he got mad. That ended up being a downfall, they ended up fighting too much. They were both hard headed and hot tempered.

He closed the distance between them. Lifting a hand, he pointed a finger from himself to her. "Don't you mean _our_ child? She's ours. Yours 'n mine."

She swallowed hard. "Ours, huh? When does she go to bed? What time does she get up? What is her favorite food? You don't know her. Bottom line is you're a stranger to her."

"And who's fault is that?"

It hurt just as it was meant to. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself. He hadn't meant to get into a screaming match with her. He definitely didn't want to cause more hurt than he already had.

He was quiet for a moment then his mind shifted gears. "I thought we loved each other. I sure the hell loved you."

_Loved_. Past tense. His use of the word and his use of it unnerved her.

At one time the love they felt for each other was as tangible as the air they breathed. There was no doubt Billie had been conceived with that love. But it was the wrong time. The wrong place. The house they lived in was run down and too small for her, Daryl and Merle. Adding a baby into the fray wasn't an option and Beth knew Merle wouldn't let Daryl leave easily, should they choose to go back home. She felt Daryl's loyalty for Merle was stronger than his love for and choosing a better life for her child was best for all involved. She either could have done what was best for the baby or stay with Daryl. There was no in-between. The only option was to leave.

Leaving didn't mean she didn't love him. Because Lord help her, she did love him. Still to this day. Present tense.

"Sometimes love isn't enough. Maybe I didn't make the right choice. I was young and scared. It wasn't fair of me to exclude you," she admitted. "But it's not like I had a lot of good choices in front of me." She watched him as her words sunk in. "Sometimes there are no easy choices," she finished.

He noticed she was shaking, ever so slightly. Anyone else probably wouldn't notice it. He did. He couldn't resist touching her. Years and secrets stood between them but his need for her never died. He cupped her face and traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb. "Beth," he spoke roughly, emotion clogging his throat.

She wanted so badly to lean into the solidity of his chest. To feel his strong arms close around her shoulders. To be comforted by him if only for a few seconds. Instead, she took a step back. He was effectively a stranger to her now. One she probably shouldn't trust.

"Please don't take her from me," she spoke her greatest fear, hating how her voice hiccuped with emotion as she pleaded.

"What?" He asked, sincerely shocked. "I'd never do that."

"You gotta understand she's my world." She broke then and let the tears fall, unable to stop them from streaming down her face.

"I get that." He didn't really though. How could he? He hasn't raised a child for two years only to have some guy show up out of nowhere to do what? Spend time with her? Share custody? He had no idea. "I don't know what the fuck to do, what the fuck I want. But holy hell Beth, I'm not gonna' take her from you. I'm not some kinda' monster! Is that what you think of me? " He snapped. Voice raising again as he spoke.

"Daryl, don't be that way," she said, wiping at the tears. "It's just I don't know you anymore."

"Apparently you _do_ know me. You left because I'm this way. A no-good drug dealer, not fit to be a parent."

"I didn't say that," she defended.

"That's exactly what you said."

It suddenly became too much. The sadness in her voice tightened his chest. He was no longer angry. He was afraid. Afraid Beth actually felt that he was a no-good drug dealer. He was afraid he'd never get to know his daughter. Afraid he'd never see Beth again.

He walked back to the door, putting a hand up, letting her know he was done. Done talking. Done dealing with this shit. He turned his back and strode out the door to his bike. Got on and took off, the loudness drowning out the pain in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment. :)


	6. Last Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I try really hard with the typos, but they still get through. I'm sorry! Thanks for reading anyway. Enjoy the chapter (and the next one too).

After Daryl took off yet again, Beth counted the hours until she could go home. She needed to be with Billie. Needed to be close where she could hug and kiss her and watch her play. By mid-afternoon, things got pretty dull around the shop anyway so she cut out an hour early.

She relieved her mother of babysitting duty and Billie must have sensed Beth needed a few extra snuggles because she sat with her for a good five minutes before wiggling down off her lap and going about doing her normal thing. Beth was tempted to get ahead of the always mounting pile of laundry but decided to make cookies with Billie instead.

She pulled up the stool Shawn made for Billie and gathered all the ingredients needed to make Billie's favorite double chocolate chip cookies. She loved to bake and clapped her little hands every time they dumped another ingredient into the mixing bowl.

Repeating after Beth, Billie counted out, "One, two, three," except she pronounced it 'free', as they put the mini M&M's one by one into the batter. Then Billie got impatient and dumped the whole measuring cup in, exclaiming "Yay!" as she did.

More and more everyday Billie's babbling turned into words and words were turning into sentences and she was getting heavy for Beth to tote around on her hip, still, she'd carry her as long as Billie allowed her to, which wasn't much these days. Billie always wanted her feet on the ground so she could run and skip and play. Just as it should be.

"Yay!" Beth repeated though her voice was annoyingly wobbly with emotion, still charged from her argument with Daryl.

She checked her phone a couple of times throughout the day seeing if he by chance he called or texted. He did neither and she didn't expect that he would. It made her uneasy just how badly she wished he would, if for no other reason than to find out if he was still in town. He claimed to be on his way out when he went to her instead and apparently had stayed until that morning.

After their fight that morning, she supposed he could have taken off. His leaving town would probably make her life easier. Out of sight, out of mind, and away from her and Billie. Now that he was back though, and now that she'd seen him, even though they fought, it was impossible to get him out of her mind.

* * *

He should go back. Apologize. Start over again. But who was he to interfere with what Beth had built? Who was he to interrupt the good life Billie seemingly had? Judging by who he used to be, how he treated Beth, picking Merle and pills and partying over her, he didn't blame her for thinking he wasn't suitable to be a parent. The Daryl Beth knew _wasn't_ suitable to be a parent and if he wanted to prove he was different now, taking off as he did sure wasn't going to help persuade her otherwise.

By nightfall, their conversation and his indecision had replayed over and over in his head so many times he was desperate to find a way to drown it out.

He needed to find a way to numb the pain or he'd go crazy.

The only place that served alcohol in this forsaken town was a truck stop out near the highway. It had been there since Daryl could remember. He and Merle often accompanied their father there. Finding coins in the dirt parking lot, they'd play old country tunes on the jukebox. They'd play pool if no adults were using the table. If the waitress was feeling particularly generous she'd give them cherry cokes free of charge because there was no way their dad would waste any of his drinking money on them. Daryl would eventually fall asleep in a booth using an apron as a makeshift pillow. He'd wake up the next morning in his bed if his father didn't forget him in the booth.

When he pulled into the parking lot, there were quite a few people there already even though it was still early. When he and Merle were younger, they wouldn't roll up to the bar till well past ten. Things were different now apparently. The people there now came for their fancy wine tasting or whatever the hell it was that rich people on vacation did to get sloshed.

The parking lot was now paved and the outer building looked like it had a facelift like the rest of the businesses in town. Judging by the number of people crammed inside, it was a popular spot. He couldn't fathom it - the truck stop seemed to be the hangout for people in their early twenties instead of truckers.

He, a little too roughly, elbowed his way through the annoying crowd. It was by far different from when they were kids. The jukebox was gone, the booths reupholstered. No more fake black leather, worn, and faded with the stuffing fluffing out. Now they were covered by green plaid fabric. There were tables set up in the center and a bar along the back. Television sets were angled in different spots on the walls all tuned to a different sport of some kind.

By the time he found an empty barstool he was regretting coming here at all, the last thing he needed to do was run into someone he knew.

"Daryl Dixon, is that you?"

"Fuck me," he mumbled under his breath. He looked up from his hands atop the shiny bar top to see a woman standing in front of him behind the bar.

"Magna," he said neutrally. He had gone to school with her older brother. She always trailed them, followed wherever they went. She was tough, could hold her own. Never talked much so Daryl didn't mind.

She still wore her dark wavy hair to her shoulders, flannel shirt over a grey t-shirt, her shorts as short as possible. Why the hell not? She had nice legs. She looked good, though tired. Older. He doubted he looked any better. She obviously hadn't gotten out of town as she had hoped. Last he heard, she went to prison for killing her cousin's rapist. Apparently she got out and was back home, sporting a tattoo on her chest.

"What are you doin' back here?" She asked, automatically getting him a cold Bud in a bottle placing it in front of him, leaning in on an elbow.

"Hell if I know," he mumbled loud enough to be heard. "Could ask you the same thing. Wasn't you in jail?" He didn't have the energy to pretend to be polite. Magna wasn't the type to mind.

"Yeah, all told I only served about a year. Been back here a while now," she explained of her prison sentence.

"A year too long," Daryl nodded. In his opinion, she did the world a favor by taking out a rapist.

She smiled, the smile not reaching her eyes. She had been dealt a bad hand from the beginning, just as he had. A shitty childhood would do that to a person. Jail, as well, will do that to a person. Taking the life of someone, even a no good rapist will do that to a person.

"I agree. So, how are ya'? How's Merle? Its been too long."

He rolled his shoulder, stared the bottle of Budweiser down. "Merle got busted. He got more than a year."

Daryl wasn't sure why he told her this. Maybe he'd thought she'd understand. She didn't judge him for who he was. She grew up here too, she was more on his level than most people in this town.

"That's rough," she said, giving him a slight nod of solidarity. "That one's on the house. You stayin' in town long?" She questioned.

Daryl peered at her from under his camouflage hat he switched to after taking off his helmet. "Not sure," he said, looking from her to the beer in front of him again. He hadn't made a point to quit drinking, it just worked out that way. Alcohol wasn't his problem. Pills were.

Still, did he want to blow months of sobriety in one night? Yes, yes he did.

His mouth watered as he put the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink. The bubbles danced on his tongue, the bitterness sliding cooly down his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had a drink. Couldn't say he really missed it, he only missed the effect it had on him to feel nothing.

Magna went about her business filing people's orders, talking, cleaning up their abandoned cups, wiping down the bar where condensation from frosted mugs and spills from fancy wine had left their mark, coming back occasionally to see if Daryl needed anything else, making small talk with him which he mostly responded to with grunts. Uh huh's and yeah's or Na's.

He wanted to be left alone, yet he didn't. The atmosphere made him think of Merle. He always dragged Daryl out to the bar no matter where they were or what town they were in. Merle had a sixth sense of where the nearest bar was. At the time he had hated it, now being here without Merle just made him sad.

Merle was crass and harsh, but he always knew what to say. Always knew what to do. Concerning Beth and Billie, Daryl guessed that Merel would advise him to skip town and never look back.

But did Merle really know what to do? How many times had Daryl let him take the lead and how many times had it been a bad idea? More times than not. In his increasingly foggy state, he thought maybe he should do the _opposite_ of what Merle would do. Maybe he should do what he wanted to do, what his gut was telling him to do.

His gut told him to stay in town. To figure out a way to make it work. What if he was wrong? What if he messed up Billie's life? What if, what if, what if.

There were too many what-ifs, too many questions he didn't have the answers to, so to drown out the questions along with Merle and Beth, he kept drinking. As the night wore on, he became increasingly buzzed.

When last call came, Magna didn't tell him to leave, she handed him a bottle of water instead and finished closing up. The rest of the staff filtered out and she joined him at the bar, kicking her feet up on the empty stool between them.

She pulled a wad of cash out of the apron she wore around her waist and started counting it out. "These nights 'bout kill me, but the money is good. I only work here two nights a week but I make more than my day job at the recycling center."

Daryl nodded. What did he know? He'd hadn't held a straight job since he was fifteen.

"So what brings you back to town?" Manga asks, opening the bottle of water for him, pushing it toward his hand. He reluctantly took a drink.

"Nowhere else to go, I suppose. Now that Merle," he still hated saying where Merel was, it cut a little too deeply. "Now that Merel is gone 'n all." He let the implications fill in the blanks.

"Gotcha'." She stuffed the counted money back into her apron. "So, you run into Beth yet?"

She tried to sound casual. Even drunk Daryl saw through it. His head snapped up to her and for the first time all night, he met her eyes. "Beth?"

"Oh, don't act so shocked," she laughed. "Y'all were hot and heavy back then. Then you all took off together. When I got out of jail and came back here, Beth was back but there was no sign of you." She waited a beat, watching his reaction before continuing. "I ran into Beth a few months after I got back to town and she was very pregnant. No mistaking it either. She was all belly." Magna made a circular motion with her arms in front of her belly.

Daryl said nothing, only stared at her. If she knew, Billie was his, how many others knew? Of course, everyone knew! Did everyone think he was a deadbeat dad? He doubted if anyone was surprised.

"Beth seems like a one guy at a time kinda' girl," she went on. "I assumed the baby was yours."

"She didn't tell me," he responded. It was the only thing he could think to say. He didn't try to fight off the bitterness in his voice, he was too drunk to hide it. "Found out for myself when I came back here. But yeah, she's mine. Couldn't deny it even if I wanted to." It felt good to tell someone he had a daughter even if things were up in the air.

"She does look like you," Magna agreed. When Daryl looked at her questioningly she responded, her face softening ever so slightly, "Small town, remember? I see them 'round all the time. Sweet little girl." She sighed, stifled a yawn. "So, what you gonna' do 'bout it?" She asked boldly.

Daryl almost choked on his water. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he grumbled, "Damn, you always been one ta' say what's on your mind."

"Well, I ain't changed any," she snorted out a laugh. "But lots of guys would just take off. Their ego hurt, tail between their legs. Scared. They outta' here, just like that," she snapped her fingers. "Wah, wah, wah."

"Well miss, with all the answers, what do you suggest I do?" He asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer. Not _wanting_ an answer.

"Do that little girl a favor and don't be that guy. Every little girl wants a daddy that loves and cares for them."

"I'm just a fuck up," he said offhandedly, leaning on the bar, his head starting to pound.

"A fuck up that _tries_ is better than no fuck up at all. You know this ain't been easy on Beth," Magna told him as though she had some authority on the matter.

"Not easy on _her_?"

Magna noded. "She's had to do this on her own. She has her family, but it ain't the same as having your partner to help you through it. I know how it is, my sister is raising two kids on her own."

His mind was foggy, and he wasn't entirely hating it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was mildly amused at how quickly he had gotten drunk. He'd become a lightweight in his months of unplanned sobriety.

He snorted humorlessly and slurred, "Who asked you anyway?"

"You asked me," she reminded him, shaking her head. "You're wasted. Come on," she said standing. "You can stay with me tonight. You do not need to be drivin'."

Something akin to fear showed on his face and she laughed again. "Don't worry. I won't try to seduce you. I swing the other way, remember?" She helped steady him when he got to his feet. "You can crash on my sofa. Besides, I can tell you're still in love with Beth."

He didn't try to argue. If he did argue he'd be lying on top of being drunk.

* * *

It took a moment for Daryl to remember where he was. The room was dark, except for a television on the wall. The show flashed on the screen, an assault to his eyes. He looked around the unfamiliar room, slowly sitting up, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. Magna appeared from an adjoining room and the memory of the night before came back to him. He'd gotten unexpectedly drunk and Magna had offered him her couch.

He'd slept for the first time since finding out about Billie, but he dreamed crazy unsettling dreams. Ones where Billie rejected him at various ages. As a toddler, crying and pushing him away, then older as a teen and then as an adult when she finally realized what a loser he was.

As Magna walked past she silently offered him a glass of water and held out her hand. He held out his hand in return and she dropped two white tablets into his palm. Aspirin.

"Thanks," he murmured in a voice that felt too loud in his own head.

She said nothing, only nodded. She mentioned she had another job she worked during the day. She'd work nights at the bar a couple nights a week, got a few hours sleep then she'd go to her day job. Daryl didn't envy her any as she retreated into what he guessed to be the bathroom. After a moment he heard the sounds of a shower through the closed door.

He downed the pills and drank the water, hoping it wouldn't come back up.


	7. Mama Don't Mess Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Just a quick chapter. ;)

Another sleepless night and Beth's shoulders ached from tension. She tried her best to ignore it and the headache brewing at her temples. If this was how Daryl wanted to be then she had no place for him in their life. This constant stress wasn't good for her and subsequently Billie. She couldn't have someone flying off the handle, stomping off in anger. Not that she wasn't angry, not that she didn't yell back.

She should just let him go. He made the decision for her by acting the way he did. Unfortunately, all she felt was more confused. Billie deserves everything life has to offer, which includes a father.

She sat at the edge of her bed, blurry eyed, trying to get up the energy to start the day. It was still early, the dark sky reflected against the window. Her bedside light, though dim, hurt her eyes.

A sudden knock at the window made her jump. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at the window wondering what the noise was. It must have been a bird? A very small bird. Maybe a June bug going full force at the window?

There it went again, a little ping against the glass. It looked like something hit it. Slowly she stood and went to the window, leaning cautiously forward, a shadow stood at the ground below the window.

Her heart jumped to her throat and she was a step away from grabbing her phone and calling 911 when the shadow stepped into the light of the porch.

Daryl.

"Give me a heart attack why don't you," she said to herself before opening the window and whispered loudly, "What the hell are you doing? I almost called the police on you."

"Well, you wouldn't be the first one," he attempted a joke, his voice carrying through the chilly morning air. This was stupid, he should wait till later in the day. But this couldn't wait. "Can I talk to you?"

Beth thought a few seconds then nodded telling him she'd be down in a second. She grabbed a hooded sweatshirt to wear over the tank top she slept in and headed quietly down the stairs and to the door.

The dark sky was giving way to bright orange off to the east and the smell of dew wafted through the air. Wearing only light cotton sleep shorts, goosebumps ran down her bare legs that had nothing to do with the early morning chill. He'd do this sometimes when they were first together. Come to her window and throw pebbles at it until she came downstairs. Under the secret night sky, they'd usually end up in the barn exploring each other's bodies. Talking. Not talking. Being together, just the two of them. Tangled up in one another until the wee hours of the morning when Daryl would finally leave just before Hershel was up for the day. Beth thought it was romantic.

This definitely had a different feel.

She held her breath as Daryl came into view appearing out of the dark, shoulders hunched, head down. She silently slid out of the door, waiting for him to speak.

Though her mother would reprimand her, she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. Leaving wasn't how problems got solved. It only generated more problems. More hurt feelings. Shamefully, she realized that was exactly what she had done all those years ago. Left without so much as a goodbye. Wasn't she the pot calling the kettle black? He was here now and she was curious as to why. Knuckling under, she threw him a bone she wasn't sure he deserved.

"It's lucky I'm still in the same bedroom. Coulda' got yourself shot. Mama don't mess around, she sleeps with a sawed-off shotgun next to her bed ever since Daddy died." She tightened her arms around her middle. "You could have used the phone," she reminded him.

He nodded. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't answer my call."

Daryl stopped short of climbing the steps and without preamble said, "I got drunk last night." Sheepishly, almost embarrassed. He shuffled his feet, looked up at her from the tops of his eyes with his head downturned.

She stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "Thought you were done with that?"

"I was, I mean I am. Last night was just a reminder as ta' why, I guess." He brought a hand to his forehead where an ache banged in his skull. "I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else."

"Why?" She asked.

"Didn't want you to think I was hiding something."

"You're a grown man. Can do what you want." To be honest, had she heard he'd gotten drunk through the rumor mill she would be perturbed. "Why don't you just tell me what you're doing here?" It was early in the morning and she'd lost more sleep due to Daryl than she cared to admit. She was tired and out of patients.

He cleared his throat. Paused, gathering his words. "I'm sorry I took off like I did. I shouldn't have done that. It's just a shock," he guessed was the right word. "Ya know? To find out I got a kid. This beautiful perfect little girl."

 _Beautiful perfect little girl._ The cold surrounding her heat melted, just the tiniest little bit.

He fumbled. "Damn. You know I never know the right thing to say."

"I don't know about that. Sometimes you knew just what to say." There was a time when he could talk her into just about anything. Never mind talk, he could look at her and she'd do just about anything.

He smirked, then turned serious once again. "I'd like to think I would have snapped out of it if you told me you were pregnant, but I'm not sure I would have. How I treated you back then was wrong. I'm sorry for that too."

She waited for him to add a 'but' to that statement. But I was just tryin' to make money. But Merle said this or that. But the pills had a hold on me. He didn't though. He apologized. Sincerely.

"I know this hasn't been easy on you," he continued, repeating Magna's words from the night before. Selfishly he had been thinking only about himself. How he felt. How it affected him.

"I understand you left cause you thought it was best for the baby. And it probably was the best decision. But years have passed. I just want a chance. A chance to get to know Billie." His voice was hoarse. Emotion mixed with the hangover edged his words. My daughter, he thought to himself, though he felt he had no right to claim her as such.

"What does that mean to you?" She asked. "Getting to know Billie."

"I don't know. I don't have all the answers, Beth," he answered honestly.

Why did his saying her name have such an effect on her, she wondered? She shifted her feet, sighed. Reminded herself this isn't about her. It was about Billie.

"What happens after you get to know her and you realize parenting is hard work?" This was her daughter they were talking about, she wasn't going to take this decision lightly. If he thought she was being a bitch, then so be it.

"Ain't gonna' happen," he assured confidently. "I understand the seriousness of this. I've fucked up so much in my life, just give me a chance to un-fuck it up. Give me a chance to do right by her."

Beth was skeptical. It scared her, terrified her, to relinquish control. To trust. Billie deserved a chance to have her father in her life. While Glenn and Shawn did their best at being uncles, they weren't a substitute for her biological father. And Daryl deserved a second chance.

But.

It would have to be on her terms. "No more drugs? No more dealing?" She questioned.

"No, none of that. Promise I won't even smoke around her. And after last night I'm not planning on drinking again."

She stared at him wishing she could see through him, see what he was really thinking. Billie was unequivocally the most important thing in her life and she took that seriously. It wasn't that she didn't want Daryl in Billie's life, it was that she didn't want who Daryl was three years ago in her life.

Finally, she relented letting out an unsteady breath. "Okay," she whispered. Then louder said, "Okay."


	8. A Life With Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, the lack of comments is a bummer. I appreciate each one I do get though and I appreciate those who read who don't leave a comment. I love that bethyl is still going on, even if its just in my head. lol

For their first visit, they met at the park in the center of town. It was nothing fancy, boasting a swing set, slide, and a sandbox. It also had a gazebo and a few picnic tables.

There was always someone at the farm between Annette and Glenn and Maggie living there and Shawn coming and going throughout the day on farm business as well as the few workers that helped out. The park seemed like neutral ground. In the middle of the day on a Tuesday, there usually weren't many people there.

Daryl was trying his best. He wore clean clothes, his hair was damp from a recent shower. He didn't smoke, was sure not to swear. His eyes were clear and bright. Anxiety mixed with excitement as though his head might float away. It was similar to when he used to do speed He'd get this shaky hyper feeling, pent up energy but lacking the focus to do anything with it. This natural high was much better.

Beth introduced him as Daryl. Not your father or daddy. Just Daryl. Though it stung, he understood. For all Beth knew he'd take off and the girl would be left wondering where her daddy went. He wanted to prove himself, show Beth he had no plans on leaving.

She wore her hair braided over a shoulder, loose tank top, and skinny jeans with holes in the knees. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass did nothing to help that floating feeling.

Billie, her hair pulled up in a spiky ponytail on the top of her head, looked at him with those curious eyes that were so much like Beth's. Mickey Mouse smiled from her bright red t-shirt. Her feet were tucked into tiny sneakers. Everything about her was minuscule, he couldn't get over it. She leaned into her mom's leg. He towered over her and he figured he must seem huge to her so he kneeled down to be a little more at eye level.

"Hey there sweetie, we're gonna' hang out for a bit today. That okay with you?" He asked, having no idea what he should say.

She nodded a little nod. He looked up Beth a second before returning his attention to Billie. The grass, in need of a trim, was filled with tiny yellow flowers. He picked one, his forefinger and thumb hiding the small stem completely. "Look at these. They are so small. Perfect size for you."

She took it without hesitation and put it to her nose, inhaling deeply. His heart melted a tiny bit.

While Beth could barely get the words out when she agreed to allow him to have contact with Billie that early morning at the farm, today she showed no signs of any ill will or unease. She led them to the picnic table and pulled Billie up onto her lap, still holding that tiny flower.

Beth cheerily led the conversation to which he was thankful. He didn't know any two-year-olds and he felt he was stumbling along. Billie wasn't interested in their conversation and soon wiggled off Beth's lap and began inspecting a bug in the grass.

She was so young she didn't understand the importance of their meeting. Adults complicated things, while kids were kids. They lived more in the moment. She just wanted to play, wanted someone to push her on the swing, to play in the sand. Wanted someone to lift her so she could sit perched upon the limb of a nearby tree. Daryl gladly obliged her, when she lifted her tiny hand and pointed a tiny finger, repeating the word "up". He gingerly lifted her just above his head and onto the limb. She was small and light, nothing to her. It made him even more nervous. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her.

He held her steadily with one hand on her waist as she peered down at him from her spot on the tree, midday sun haloing behind her head. Happily, she gibbered nonsensical words, kicking her feet. She was so small and perfect. Daryl had this overbearing urge to protect her, a minuscule glimpse of what Beth must feel on a daily basis.

Abjectly he glanced at Beth. She stood nearby, her hands clamped together in front of her. She smiled, but he read the uneasiness in her eyes. This wasn't easy for her; he wanted to tell her thank you. Thank her for this moment. Thank her for the moments to come. Instead, he sent her a wink of assurance, one that said everything is going to be okay even though he had no idea how it would be, he just knew it would.

Looking back at Billie it was like feeling the warmth of the sun for the first time. It was like finally being able to breathe. He hadn't expected to feel this way, hadn't been sure what to expect at all.

How could you love someone so much you found existed only a short time before?

* * *

Daryl spent the next week looking for work. He didn't know a lot about kids but it was no secret they were expensive. He planned on helping with Billie financially. In order to do that he needed a job. He wanted to be a father to Billie. An actual dad that was there to bandage scraped knees and to buy school clothes for, to discipline, though he wasn't looking forward to that.

He had to prove himself to Billie and to Beth but mostly to himself. He didn't have a good example where his own father was concerned. Will's idea of quality time was taking Daryl and Merle to the bar with him. He was meaner than a snake the majority of the time and abusive the other part of the time. He was equally abusive to their mother, never having a kind word to say to or about her. Carolyn Dixon wasn't a whole lot better. She wasn't afraid to take a belt to her hellion sons. When Daryl was eighteen, Carolyn finally had had enough of Will and their life and took a bottle of pills. Went to sleep and never woke up. Will followed a year later when he died of a heart attack.

If nothing else his parents taught him how not to parent. If he just did the opposite of what they did he'd be doing good.

He wanted to be better than good though. He wanted to be the dad that little girl deserved. He wasn't sure how to go about it. For starters, he thought one thing he could do was get a job. Productive members of society worked, right? Worked straightlaced jobs.

There weren't a lot of jobs offered in the area. Most people farmed, worked for the school system or they commuted to one of the bigger towns. He was afraid most people would probably not even give him the time of day let alone a job.

He hadn't held a legitimate job since he was a teen and wasn't even sure how to go about securing employment. Dixon's had a bad reputation and those that knew him and his family were reluctant to hire him. Coupled with the fact that there was a severe lack of work in the area and his frustration grew with each job he was turned down for.

Finally, after what felt longer than it actually was, he caught a break.

He'd been cleaning the yard of all the debris leftover from his father and from Merle and because he didn't have a truck or a trailer, he requested a pick up from the recycling center. None other than Magna drove the truck. Apparently this was her day job.

She smoothly backed the flatbed into his drive and jumped out of the truck that she seemed entirely too short to drive and donned a pair of gloves. She helped Daryl load up everything from a broken rake to an old and rusted out washing machine. Between the two of them, they had the trailer loaded up within an hour.

"How long you been working at the center?" Daryl asked when they were through. Short of breath and sweating they sat on the steps of the small porch under the overhand that offered a little bit of shade from the afternoon sun.

"Since I got back. Slim pickin's around here as far as employment goes. Being a felon doesn't help any. But Abraham doesn't care 'bout none of that. All he cares is I'm a hard worker." She said of her boss Abraham Ford who ran the recycling center.

Daryl took a drink of the coke he'd gotten each of them. "That's the truth. I been looking for work, no luck yet though."

Magna's eyes lit up. "Oh really?" She asked. "I happen to know of a place that's hiring."

* * *

Abraham Ford and Daryl went way back though he was closer to Merle's age than his own. Merle and Abraham spent more time together than he and Daryl. He was as much a hell-raiser as the Dixon's were. The only difference is Abe got his life together quicker than Daryl had, joining the army on his twentieth birthday.

"Heard you was back in town," Abraham said after they greeted one another with a handshake and a "Sona' bitch. Can't believe you're not sitting up in a jail cell somewhere."

Daryl nodded, not telling him that's exactly where Merle was.

"Where the hell ya' been?" Abe asked, leading Daryl to a small office at the entrance to the recycling center. He sat behind a grubby metal desk nodding to the metal folding chair that sat opposite him across the desk.

Daryl sat. "I've been here and there. Nowhere special. Somehow found myself back here of all places. What about you?" He asked, hoping to get and keep the topic off himself if possible.

"After I got out of the Army I came back here. This town is like a black hole, it drags you back in eventually. I took over the center when my dad retired. Me and Rosita got married," he added with a small smile.

"No shit?" Abraham and Rosita had dated off and on. Fought more than they didn't. Then there had been Sasha for a time, after that Daryl lost track.

A laugh rumbled in Abe's chest. "Well she was pregnant with our second son and she told me we were getting married or she was leaving."

"Well, that'll do it then." There was a lull in the conversation before Abe switched topics.

"Magna said you were looking for a job."

Daryl sat up straighter. "Yeah, I am. I been looking but ain't had any luck. No one wants to hire a Dixon."

"The pays ain't great," he told Daryl outright. "I don't care what your last name is. We need someone with a strong back. Someone that will show up when they're supposed to. "

Daryl didn't care the pay was low. He wanted a weekly steady paycheck. He wanted the kind of work that left you tired by the end of the day complaining about a sore back. Honest work.

"I know I was a piece of shit back in the day. I got responsibilities now. You offering a job, I'll take it." That was as close to begging as Daryl got.

Abraham leaned back in his duct-taped, plastic, padded chair, raising an eyebrow in interest. "You weren't a piece of shit any more than I was."

Daryl appreciated Abraham's comment but he was sure he was a piece of shit. That's what happened when you had no upbringing to speak of. What kind of father he'd be, he had absolutely no fucking clue. Billie might be better off without him. She'd have a good upbringing between Beth and her family. His heart already belonged to her though, and he wasn't giving up. He'd bust his ass trying to be the father she needed.

If only he could win the heart of her mother also.

He had no idea where that thought came from and focused back on Abe and the job. He said, "I'll work whenever you need me to. Mornings. Afternoons. Weekends."

Abraham put a hand up to stop him. "I know you'll be a good worker. If you want the job, it's yours."

* * *

He took the job and did it well. It was a bigger operation than he remembered and there was always work needing to be done. He covered if another employee didn't show up. Did pickups and deliveries. Unloaded and loaded trucks. He even answered the phone when no one else was around to answer it which he absolutely hated.

The first week kicked his ass and he gladly withstood every ache and pain. He was spurred on by the weekend when he'd get to see Billie again. Billie and Beth. Their last meet up had gone better than he expected. Billie waved her little hand and gave him the sweetest shy smile as she watched him mount his bike to leave the park. As soon as he drove off, as ridiculous and unbelieving as it seemed, he missed her.

Tuckered out, he set his alarm for another early morning, his life suddenly and strangely had purpose.

* * *

"Whoa. Hold up! Daryl Dixon is back in town? And not only that but he's seen Billie?" Maggie asked. She stood in the middle of the living room a forgotten baby doll in her right hand and a plastic truck in her left.

Billie was in bed, the video monitor on the end table in the living room showed she had finally settled and was sleeping soundly. Beth was picking up the mess from an evening with a toddler and Maggie, having just come in from work in the barn, was helping.

Beth tried to nonchalantly work into the conversation that Daryl was back. Just mention it in passing. _You know, no big deal._ Maggie unsurprisingly took it for the huge deal it was.

She was protective of her family, especially Billie. From the day she was born and Maggie held her for the first time she fell hard for her niece and claimed she was the most perfect thing she'd ever laid eyes on. Beth agreed.

"Yeah. It went well. He was really sweet with her," Beth said, taking the toys from Maggie and throwing them in the basket that held Billie's never ending supply.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Maggie asked, her green eyes huge with dismay.

"I don't know. I wasn't even sure he'd show up to meet us. Didn't your husband mention he came to the house?" She asked coyly, trying to deflect the attention off of herself, mentally apologizing to Glenn for throwing him under the bus. He'd understand, she hoped.

Both Glenn and her Anette respected Beth's privacy. The first time Daryl came to the house, Annette had asked if she was okay, if she needed to talk. Beth put on a brave face and said she was fine. She doubted Annette bought it but she let it go. Beth honestly didn't know how she felt other than unsure, scared, excited, angry, and about a hundred other emotions. After Daryl left that day and Beth put Billie down for a nap, she retreated to the bathroom where she sobbed in silence on the cool tile floor.

Maggie was a different ball game. She'd never been shy about saying what she thought. She considered it her duty to be in the middle of Beth's business ever since she was born. It only got worse when Beth came back to town pregnant.

"No, Glenn didn't say a word to me. How long has he been back?"

Beth knelt down to retrieve a few brightly colored blocks from underneath the couch, talking with her back to Maggie. "I'm not sure."

"And you're going to just let him see Billie?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna get her a car seat for his motorcycle."

Beth stood again unable to hold back the laugh that bubbled up from her throat at the look on Maggie's face. "Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm kidding!"

Maggie tossed a stuffed bear at Beth with a groan of both frustration and humor. "But you did let him see her?"

Beth put the blocks in the basket and sat on the sofa, hugging the bear to her chest. It gave her a little bit of comfort. "Yes." There she said it out loud making it all the more real.

"What does this mean?" Maggie asked, her voice lowered as it did when she was upset.

"I don't know."

"You don't know? You don't know! This is your daughter, Beth. You can just play willy nilly with her and the people you let in her life."

Beth's eyes shot to Maggie's. "You don't think I know that? I'm not going to let anything happen to her. You should know better. But he's her father. I can't deny him that."

Maggie scoffed. "Father? More like a sperm donor."

"That's not fair," Beth said, in a strange rush to defend Daryl. "I left him when I found out I was pregnant."

"Fair? Is it fair that you had to travel home by yourself? You were so worn out and weak you slept for days! Do you remember that? Is it fair that you had to deliver Billie on your own? That you've had to raise her on your own the past two years?"

She honestly didn't let herself dwell on it. If she had, the absence of Daryl would have overtaken her. Besides, she wasn't alone, her family had been there to help. When she went into labor she wasn't alone. The whole family had been there.

Labor, as it tends to be, was long and hard and it'd be a lie if she didn't wonder what it would have been like to have the man she loved, the father of her child, by her side. To hold her hand, to feed her ice chips and rub her back, to tell her she was beautiful even though she looked like hell.

Not that Daryl was the back rubbing, ice feeding kind of guy. He could, however, convey with a look that spoke volumes more than anyone could say.

After hours of labor, she couldn't concentrate on anything but the physical pain and the absence of Daryl and she began to break down, tears streaming down her face. Her mother and Maggie thought it was due to being in labor for fourteen hours when really Beth was missing Daryl and she no longer had the strength at the point to hold back.

"I left him," Beth said again. "And I wasn't alone. I had y'all. Don't you trust me to make the right choices when it comes to Billie?"

The contractions were coming one on top of each other and she foolishly refused an epidural hours ago, now it was too late. She had wanted to feel the pain. Wanted to remember how it felt to birth her little girl into this world, she didn't want to be numb. Numb would describe how she felt the days after she left Daryl and she never wanted to feel that empty void again.

Maggie sighed, only slightly chided. "'Course I trust you. You're a good mother. I just worry."

"Well don't."

Beth talked a good talk with Maggie. Inside, she wished she knew what the right decision was regarding Daryl. Not only was he now in Billie's life, he was back in hers as well and it looked promising. They'd had a nice visit and Billie took to Daryl easily.

They were both looking forward to Saturday when they had planned to meet at the park again no matter what Maggie thought about it.


	9. Life Is Messy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the response from the last chapter. I appreciate all of you whether you leave a comment or not. (But I do eat up those comments. lol)
> 
> Short chapter with a little bit more backstory. Hope you like it and leave a comment if you'd like. 

A strange thing happened after the first few meet ups with her Daryl and Billie. Daryl began to occasionally stop in to the coffee on his way to work.

He was the same but so different. Working hard at a regular job. Still driving that Harley, but slower and always wearing a helmet. Still quiet, some would mistake him as being moody or standoffish, which he was to an extent. Beth knew better. Just because he didn't ramble on didn't mean anything. He was always watching, taking everything in. Observing.

Yet there was a shift within him. He was calmer. More present. His mind didn't appear to wander when Beth spoke as it did the months before she left him. When she talked now, he listened. Not only did he listen, he contributed to the conversation in his own way. He still spoke very little but when he did speak what he said was all the more important.

He didn't order a coffee, some things never change, just drank from his can of Monster Energy. He sat at one of the three stools they offered at the front counter where the barista's made the coffees. On the morning's when she heard the rumble of his bike come to a stop near the shop, no matter who was scheduled to work the counter, no matter what she was in the middle of she'd make sure to find something to do in the main room.

She'd always end up sitting next to him on one of the stools sharing a few moments with him before he'd head off to work. He wanted to know everything about Billie which warmed Beth's heart. Whether Billie slept well the night before. Whether Annette or Maggie was watching her that day. Stranger still, he also wanted to know about Beth. She was a little more reluctant to say much, not because she didn't want him to know, but because she was unsure what to say. It's not like her life had been super exciting.

Feeling foolish, she was curious if he stopped in on the days she didn't work but was too uncomfortable to ask the baristas on shift those days leaving her to wonder.

* * *

Daryl was sweet with Billie, following her as she toddled around the park, lifting her up onto the slide, walking along the side of the slide holding her hand as she slid down. Over and over again. He seemed to have endless patience for her.

Beth sat back, trying her best not to interfere, letting them figure each other out. Occasionally Daryl sat with Beth and they'd talk or just watch Billie explore, seeing things again through her toddler eyes.

"She sure has a lot of energy for someone so small," he chuckled one day as he sat next to Beth at the picnic table.

"That she does," Beth agreed.

"I don't know how you do this every day on your own." His serious gaze held hers. He wanted to know about Billie of course that was a given, she was his daughter. But there's Beth as well. He knew the girl she used to be, or he thought he did. He wanted to know her now as the totally different person she had become. More mature. More responsible.

"I have help," she said humbly. "Mom. Maggie and Shawn and Glenn. Everyone adores Billie."

_Glenn?_ Daryl wanted to ask. Who is he, exactly? Who was he to Beth? To Billie.

"I see why. She's, well, she's amazing."

His compliment made her insides go warm and she was almost positive her cheeks flushed.

"Can she have ice cream?" Daryl asked, abruptly changing the subject. "I thought we could walk down to the ice cream parlor and get a cone."

Beth appreciated that he thought to ask her if Billie could have ice cream before bringing it up to Billie. "Yeah. She hasn't had it but one time on her first birthday. She seemed to like it. Had cake and ice cream smeared from her head to her toes." Beth laughed at the memory.

"I'd like ta' have seen that." It was a statement. Not meant to make Beth feel bad but it still did.

Billie was busily tossing small rocks into a puddle that formed earlier in the day when a rain shower came through. After a moment of watching her in silence, Beth took her phone from her back pocket and quickly clicked on the photos app and to the album she created titled _Billie's Bday_. It didn't make up for Daryl's missing it, yet she held out the phone to show him the photos.

Billie sat in a high chair, a total adorable mess of chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, too busy having fun to look at the camera. "Look at her," he laughed. "She looks like she enjoyed herself."

"She sure did."

Beth scrolled through the photos. More of her eating the cake and blowing out the one candle. In another photo, she and Beth sat next to a huge stack of presents. In another, she was tearing into a present sitting on Beth's lap.

Beth watched Daryl as she scrolled, his smile faded a bit as she did so. Of course, he was upset that he'd missed it. Impulsively, before she had a chance to change her mind she said, "She's got a birthday coming up. We are having a get together, just some family and a few friends if you'd like to join us."

Daryl looked to Billie having moved on to a clump of dandelions, then back to Beth. Without hesitation, he answered, "I'd like that."

Their eyes met as they still leaned into one another, their heads drawn close together. Being that close made Daryl decidedly uncomfortable. He pulled back too quick and stood, leaving Beth a little confused.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shown you the pictures. It was kind of like rubbing your face in it."

He put a hand up, pushing her words away with a casual shrug. "No. I'm glad you showed me. Come on." Walking toward Billie, speaking over his shoulder to Beth, he said, "Let's get some ice cream."

Billie clasped her tiny hands together, a hopeful look on her face at the mention of ice cream. She put her little arms up to Daryl and he picked her up as though he's been doing it her whole life.

As they walked to the parlor, Beth followed behind them on purpose. Daryl talked to Billie. He pointed out this or that. Did his best to try and understand what she was saying. Beth would have never guessed he didn't have much interaction with children because with Billie he appeared to be a pro.

When they got to the ice cream parlor Beth ordered a cup of ice cream and a spoon for Billie but Daryl disagreed. Insisting she have her first cone.

"She'll make a mess," Beth told him, the all-knowing mom of a toddler.

"Life is messy, Beth," he told her giving her a wink.

* * *

Beth has no reason to be nervous, yet she fought off the butterflies that were marching through her belly the week leading up to Billie's birthday.

She was worried how the family would react to Daryl, and how he would react to them. She had been upfront with her family and they knew she left Daryl - she was pregnant and the life she was leading wasn't the best for a baby. She kept her reasoning short and to the point. They respected that and didn't ask for many details.

Things between herself and the family were precarious at first. Showing up on her Annette's doorstep out of the blue was a shock to everyone involved, even herself. She had been in contact with her mom the years she'd been gone, talking on the phone and even sending a few actual letters in the mail because Annette didn't email or text. She had no forewarning Beth was coming home though. 

Annette was naturally upset that Beth left town with some older guy they hardly knew instead of going to college as she had planned. But Annette acknowledged Beth was an adult and could do what she wanted, knowing if she somehow forced Beth to stay home, Beth would be angry and resentful. Part of being a parent is allowing your children to make their own mistakes.

The second Annette saw her, scared and alone, she knew Beth didn't need to hear _I told you so._ She needed love and understanding. Annette immediately wrapped her in her arms and welcomed her back home.

Telling her family she was pregnant - three months along, too thin with no prenatal care, had to be done soon after her arrival. That first night after the first solid meal she'd had in a long while she took a long hot shower and went to bed sleeping the majority of the first three days she was there.

When she resurfaced feeling somewhat refreshed they sat down for a family dinner. Annette had kept the family at bay long enough and they were all anxious to see her. Announcing her pregnancy after dinner was nothing like she'd imagined it to be when she was younger and more idealistic. It wasn't met with gasps of excitement or tears of happiness. It was met with deafening silence.

While it wasn't an ideal situation it was the situation they were dealt - admittedly by her own poor life choices. Annette was adamant, though, that the baby Beth carried was a blessing and the family eventually came around to the fact that she was pregnant.

They never spoke of Daryl. For them, out of sight meant out of mind. Beth wished she never thought of him. She kept busy enough during the days. The nights were too quiet and she was tempted to contact him. Maybe just a text? She fought the temptation, reasoning the chances of him still having the same phone he did when she left was unlikely. He never had the same number long, always using burner phones.

Time went on and her belly grew. She went to the doctor's and ate well, took her vitamins even though they made her feel sick. Went on evening walks. Sometimes alone. Sometimes with her mother who was as spry as ever. Sometimes Maggie went though she made no qualms about being pissed. She was pissed but very protective about her baby sister as well as the baby her sister carried.

She took prenatal classes. She got stronger. The morning sickness, exasperated by the lack of decent food when she was with Daryl, began to fade. She started working at the coffee shop, helping to expand it and make it into what it is now.

All of this was now in the past. It all had worked out. Billie was born three days late and healthy with a good set of lungs. Beth had grown up during that time. And now Daryl was back and in their lives. If she wanted to invite him to the house, she would.

The day of the party she stood in front of her closet, Billie playing on the floor with her doll and a plastic truck Shawn had given her and those butterflies that had been traipsing through her belly were quickly turning into tiny t-rex's. She wanted to look nice. But not noticeably nice. She wasn't dressing up for Daryl. No. She just wanted to look nice for the party.

Then why did she pick a dress she hadn't worn, well, ever. She bought it on clearance from her favorite clothing store's website and when she received it in the mail it quickly went to the back of her closet. Logically thinking she'd never have an occasion to wear it anyway. That's what she got for online shopping late at night when she couldn't sleep.

It was a cream colored, sleeveless, slip dress which was also a mistake. She couldn't wear white! She had a toddler with constant sticky hands. It came mid-thigh and the neckline cut a little lower than any of her normal clothing might. It flowed but cinched slightly at the waist.

She slipped it on, just to see how it looked. Once on, she felt exposed. Too much skin, too much leg. She was a mother now. At the same time, she was also a twenty-five year old woman. Just because she was a mom didn't mean she couldn't show a little leg, did it? She wasn't sure.

Just in case, she grabbed a navy blue cardigan sweater from a hanger and pulled that on feeling a little bit more appropriate.

One last look in the mirror she decided she didn't look half bad, eyeing her favorite pair of jeans tossed on the bed. She took a deep breath and picked up Billie and left the room before she had a chance to change her mind.


	10. Birthday Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy the birthday. :)

Daryl timed his arrival to Billie's party so he wasn't too early and definitely wasn't late. Judging by the number of cars lined up in the drive, there were more than a few family and friends in attendance like Beth said there'd be. There was quite a crowd milling about in and out of the house including a gaggle of kids of all ages.

He made his way through the house. He'd only been inside a few times and those times he snuck in either at night or when only Beth was home. It was as he remembered it. Comfortable, lived in yet tidy. He doubted any dust dared remain on any surface for very long before someone wiped it away. There were signs of Billie everywhere. A pile of toys in a basket in the living room, a stack of Dr. Suess books on the end table, a high chair in the kitchen.

There were also signs of Beth. Her old cowboy boots she'd had since he knew her back when she was just a kid working behind the counter at the coffee shop. Her green army jacket that had been Hershel's hanging on the hook by the front door. It was faded and too big for her, but she still wore it. In a strange way, it suited her.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he remembered standing in this same spot years before. Beth at the top of the stairs in nothing more than a t-shirt, beckoning for him to join her in her bedroom. He refused to move from where he stood.

" _Hell naw. Your family catches me upstairs with you half-naked, they'll call the sheriff on my ass."_

" _Rick? He's a nice guy."_

" _Great," he said sarcastically. "Y'all on a first name basis with the law."_

_Beth pouted. "I'm not worth the risk of getting caught?" She asked, playing with the hem of her shirt, lifting it ever so slightly, showing off her hip._

_Daryl swallowed hard. She knew exactly what she was doing._

" _Guess I'll just go on up to my room 'n entertain myself." She took another step up._

" _Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his dick pressing painfully against his zipper. With her schedule and Daryl and Merle being out on a run, it'd been over a week since they'd been together._

_She sighed, though the breath through her throat sounded more like a drawn out moan. She came down the stairs to stand on the step in front of him. Reaching out she grasped the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him to her mouth, stopping short. "Don't you want me?" She purred._

" _Girl, I wouldn't be a man if I didn't want ya," he said, placing his hands on her hips._

" _Then come on," she said and pressed her lips to his. Before Beth, he never knew kissing could feel like this. So much power and emotion, heat, and want in a physical action._

_He'd be stupid not to follow her up to her room._

He was tempted to slip upstairs and take a look at her bedroom. See how it's changed, how it might be the same. Instead, he followed the sound of muffled voices out the back door to the backyard where picnic tables were set up with pink plastic table cloths. A gathering of pink and black balloons anchored by a colored weight centered each table.

He looked around at all the people, some strangers, some people he knew, and wondered what the hell he had agreed to by coming here. He briefly thought of bailing before remembering why he was there.

Billie.

All the other people were there for the same reason. He could do this. It was only a few hours out of the day.

He had missed Billie's birth as well as her first birthday, he owed her his presence. He owed it to himself as well. One day she'll be old enough to know he'd missed out on her first two years. If he had any say he'd be there for the rest.

All his worries were shoved to the wayside when he saw Beth and Billie. They were walking across the side yard towards the house. Billie holding Beth's hand taking little steps through the thick grass. The ratty stuffed elephant stuck in the crook of her arm. She was wearing what only could be described as a princess dress. It was pink and frilly and sparkled in the sun.

His chest swelled for the little girl. Love he didn't know could exist shot through his heart, instant and strong.

And then there was the little girl's mom. She also wore a dress showing off her body he hadn't seen in years. Her hair was down, trailing her back. He always liked it when she wore it down. Liked how soft it was over his bare skin when they were alone together.

Since he met Beth he had been aware his life with her in it made it special. Somehow different than what it had been destined be. Somehow he'd lost that. Well, he didn't lose it so much as fuck it up. He hurt her. And for what? A bottle full of pills? A baggie full of powder? A brother that was so far down the rabbit hole only prison could straighten him out?

What the hell had he been thinking?

He'd always been a casual user but as time went by his drug use became heavier and heavier. It started with weed when he was barely a teen, then the moonshine he and Merle would swipe from their old man. Then he started selling pills. Then started taking pills. It escalated from there. Beth's love was a deterrent. Soon though, it wasn't enough to keep him from himself. 

Billie saw him by then and she dropped Beth's hand and ran to him. He kneeled and scooped her up as she flung her arms around his neck. He cleared his throat of the emotion clogged there before he spoke.

"Hey, baby girl." No one ever wanted to hug him before, except for Beth but that was years ago.

Beth caught up to them, a beautiful smile on her face. She eyed him, cocked her head. She read his face, read what he must have been thinking. She put her arms around the two of them, hugging them both. With his arms around Billie and Beth's encircling both of them, he felt the love she felt for Billie. He felt the need to make everything in Billie's life as perfect as he was able to. It made him realize maybe, just maybe, Beth had understood why he did drugs and why he drank too much - he'd been trying to drown out his past. And maybe that was why she tolerated it.

That was why she ran from it when she found out she was pregnant. She couldn't raise her child in the dysfunction that he'd grown up in.

As Billie leaned into him again, he allowed himself to snuggle into her hair. How did he, someone he always viewed as dark, have had a part in creating something so full of light? It wasn't his fault the hand he was dealt as a kid, but he had a chance to make it right. Something inside his chest loosened. Years of pain lifted off his shoulders. Through Billie, he could heal by being the parent that he wasn't given.

Beth finally pulled back, smiling knowingly, like she too felt the shift in him.

"What his this frilly business you got on?" Daryl teased Billie. She pulled back, still in his arms smiling brightly and giggling. "You look mighty pretty."

He looked over her head at Beth. "You look good too," he told her, feeling awkward.

"Thanks. I'm, uh," she looked down at her dress and back up to him. "We're glad you could make it." She reached up and affectionately patted Billie's back as she still clung to Daryl's neck.

"I didn't know what to get her," Daryl explained. "Wasn't sure what she liked." Plus he knew she would be getting a whole pile of fancy gifts. He spent an hour at the store wondering what you get a two-year-old. Was there a gift that made up for lost time?

"Don't worry about it," Beth was quick to forgive. "She'll like anything. She's just happy you're here."

* * *

Daryl did what he did best to stay on the periphery of the party. Watching everyone from a distance. He noticed Maggie. Saw how she hadn't changed much. Still bossing everyone around. She avoided him, or did he avoid her? Whichever, their avoidance appeared to be mutual.

Annette looked well, obviously over the moon about her granddaughter. She told him she was happy he came. He doubted as much. Still, for some reason, he appreciated her making an effort to _not_ alienate him.

He and Shawn talked about the upcoming hunting season and about his work on the farm. Keeping their discussion neutral.

And then there was the ever present Glenn. Sociable. Friendly. Always offering to help. Billie adored him, that much was obvious.

He was sure a few of the other party-goers recognized him. Not many made an effort to speak to him other than fake pleasantries. Not that Daryl made an effort to socialize with them. The ones that didn't know him were probably wondering who exactly he was and what he was doing there. No one asked and he didn't offer any information. It wasn't their business.

He mostly kept to himself and watched as Beth floated around effortlessly, being the belle of the ball. Watched as Billie played, never far off allowing her the freedom to explore but never letting her out of her sight. Billie occasionally toddled over to Daryl and he enjoyed the few moments she gave him.

He watched as everyone sang happy birthday and Billie blew out the two candles atop the pink cake. After switching the party dress to a onesie, she ate her cake and ice cream, getting it all over herself much like she had in the picture that Beth had shown him from her first birthday. She did manage to get more in her mouth this time though.

* * *

It was exhausting, these parties and playdates and just being a mom in general, but she wouldn't want it to be any different. She was determined to give Billie a magical childhood. Big birthday parties were just a part of that. At the same time, she was dubious in making sure Billie didn't become spoiled. It was hard to say no and she was only two, they had many years ahead of them but she did say no and often because Beth didn't have a whole lot to offer her. They lived with Annette but Beth insisted on paying a meager rent. Beth provided Billie's food and clothes and medical insurance and whatever else she might need. She was on a tight budget. She saved up for this party for months and it was still way less than the average person probably spent on their child's birthday party.

Balloons, a new princess dress a cake all made it special but this one was extra special whether Billie realized it or not.

She couldn't help notice Daryl sitting off to the side by himself. A few people talked with him, for the most part, he kept to himself. She didn't really expect him to be sociable. He'd always been a wallflower, a term he hated when she used it to define him. To the opposite end, she'd always been quite sociable and enjoyed going out and being around other people.

She also enjoyed being alone with him. Honestly, he was undoubtedly dismissive of most other people. She felt special that he focused so intently on her at first. The bad boy with a good heart narrative caught her attention and she quickly and fully fell in love with him.

When he wasn't being forced into conversation and when he wasn't watching Billie with a sweet wistful look on his face, their eyes met through the crowd. Beth couldn't help the smile that appeared every time. She quickly looked away embarrassed how her cheeks would flame at the slightest glimpse of him as though they were in elementary school and she had a crush on him.

She'd give anything to know what he was really thinking. Did he really want to be there? Probably not but he was here anyway and that meant something.

* * *

A plate with a huge piece of cake and a scoop of ice cream appeared before him. He followed the outstretched arm to find Maggie standing next to him. "Cake?" She asked.

_Fuck._ So much for them keeping their distance. He took the plate, mumbled his thanks so quietly he doubted she heard him.

"Nice of you to join us," she said, sitting next to him on the bench seat of the picnic table. She didn't mean it. There was an undertone of sarcasm mixed with derision in her tone.

"For some reason, I doubt you care if I'm here. Probably would prefer it if I wasn't here," he said around a mouthful of cake.

"Oh, I care. I care about my niece. Her happiness and wellbeing mean more to me than you know."

He took another bite of cake and slid the plate away, not hungry. "Why don't you just say what you came over here to say? Tell me what a piece of shit you think I am and how I better not hurt Billie and how it'd be best if I just left now."

"Wow," she said impassively. "That was pretty accurate. So if you know all that, why are you still here?"

For the first time, he looked her in the eye. "Because I don't care what you think of me. And, newsflash, I ain't goin' nowhere."

She rolled her eyes. "See this is where we have a problem. You think you know. But you don't know shit."

He couldn't help himself. "What don't I know?"

"You don't know how heartbroken Beth was when she came back here. She tried to play it off like she was okay, but I know better. I'm her sister. She was devastated. Not to mention sick and alone and pregnant. You fucked up my sister's life, don't you realize that? Or do you just not care?"

"Don't even try it, Maggie," he warned.

"Try what?" She asked, her mouth downturned angrily.

"Try to piss me off so I'll leave. I know I hurt Beth." Yes, he knew. He'd never forgive himself for it either. "That's for me and her to figure out. Not you. She doesn't need your protection."

"That's where you're wrong. It is my job to protect both Beth and Billie from no good, low lives like you."

He didn't take the bait, didn't let Maggie get to him. He remained calm, almost jovial. Smiling. A stark contrast to the words he spoke. "Beth is an adult and perfectly capable of making her own choices and Billie _is_ my daughter. Far as I'm concerned this ain't got jackshit to do with you so do us both a favor and mind your own fucking business. Now, I'm gonna go over there and watch _my daughter_ open her presents because that's what dads do."

* * *

After opening the huge mound of presents, the party dispersed. Daryl was more than ready to head out. Maggie made herself scarce for the rest of the party and no one in the immediate family spoke to him - not because of Maggie, he suspected it was more luck than anything. Just as he was about to make his escape, Beth with Billie on her hip, found him.

Billie, still wearing her stained with cake and ice cream onesie, the stuffed elephant under her arm, hair a spiky curly mess and sleepy eyes, reached for Daryl. He was sure he'd never tire of holding her as he took her from Beth. Billie immediately laid her head on his shoulder, snuggled her arms under herself. She smelled of cake and dirt. As though it was something he did every day, he placed a palm on her warm back, rubbing soothingly. He also rocked slightly back and forth because it seemed the right thing to do.

Beth beamed up at the two as Billie began to doze off. "You're a natural with her."

"Na', she's just tired."

Beth chuckled. "Well, that's true. But she knows you're someone special."

He looked out over the fields avoiding Beth's warm gaze. For lack of anything better to say, he said, "You still got your horses." He jutted a chin to the pasture with three horses and a pony, grazing lazily.

She nodded and walked toward the pen, the setting sun haloing her in an ethereal glow of orange light. Daryl followed with Billie sleeping in his arms. Leaning on the fence post she reached out for the chocolate brown mare with a white diamond between her eyes that meandered over to them.

"Yeah. Mama kept them. And got the pony for Billie on her first birthday."

He was sure Billie was asleep now curled up in his arms. It was strange, she appeared to trust him.

"Damn. A pony? Can't compete with that." If he saved up a whole year's salary he probably still couldn't afford a pony.

"Daryl," Beth said his name with a touch of sympathy which he hated. He didn't want her sympathy. "It's not about competing. You're her dad, no one can compete with that."

_Even that Glenn guy,_ he wanted to ask. What about Maggie and her unadulterated hate towards him? What about the general fuck up-ery that was his life?

The horse walked away and Beth angled her body towards Daryl. Standing close. Closer than you would while having a casual conversation with just anyone.

"Thanks for inviting me," he mumbled gruffly. He wasn't so good with pleasantries. He still wanted her to know.

"I honestly didn't think you'd come." She was quick to add, "But I'm glad you did."

"I don't want to miss any more of Billie's life." It wasn't easy, saying how he felt but he couldn't afford to hold his cards close. It was important that Beth know. "Already missed so much. Missed her birth. Her first step. All that stuff."

Guilt washed over Beth so strong and quick it took her breath. She had no words to offer him. Nothing would fix the past. All they had was the future.

"Yeah, but we still got a lot ahead of us," she said brightly. "First day of school. Riding a real bike. First loose tooth. Driving, dating."

Daryl groaned at the word dating. "Damn, let's slow down a little."

Beth laughed. "Well, it's gonna happen eventually and let me tell you time flies even faster once you have kids. You'll see." It wasn't really a statement. Her voice weakened a little bit into a question as though she was unsure.

Holding Billie with one arm he grasped Beth's elbow lightly with his free hand. "Beth, I," he began, not exactly sure what he wanted to say. Something about this being important and that he understood the gravity of it all and he'd prove himself but he was interrupted.

"There you are." Gaining their attention, they looked from each other to Glenn walking towards them. Pausing in front of them hesitantly, he asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

Daryl had almost forgotten about Glenn. Though he wasn't sure how. "Na' I was just leaving." He gave Beth a faltering look, wishing they were alone, wishing he could articulate just what he was feeling and thinking. He reluctantly handed over a sleeping Billie. Beth told him she'd talk to him tomorrow and walked away with Glenn. She spared him one last wavering glance over her shoulder, a small sad smile playing on her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you'd like to.


	11. Almost Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A happy little chapter to enjoy because the next few probably won't be so fun. Thanks for reading! Leave a comment. :)

July crept in with heat so thick one could hardly breathe. Town bustled in the mornings and then once again in the evening. The hours in between everyone retreated to their homes or places of employment with air conditioning and fans.

Unless you were unfortunate enough to work outside. Or in a building with no air conditioning where you can only hope to catch a breeze through the open bay doors. Working at the recycling center was not ideal in the Georgia summer. The only reprieve he got was the few times he had to go into Abraham's office for one thing or another. It felt like he kept the air conditioning low enough to see your breath. Other than that, Daryl spent the day perpetually drenched in his sweat.

By five, he was exhausted. But never too exhausted to go see Billie and Beth. He'd head home, shower, grab something quick and unhealthy to eat and head back to town or to the farm where he'd meet them and spend some time together before Billie's bedtime. He'd only been back three months but Beth and Billie were such a part of his life he couldn't imagine it without them. That short time with them was what kept him focused. Focused on what exactly, he wasn't sure.

On not being a worthless low life, as Maggie put it, for starters.

Daryl still had feelings for Beth, no surprise there since he'd never stopped loving her even after she left. Merle berated him about what a wimp he was being after she left. He said he needed to forget her, move on. Except no matter how hard he tried, he never could forget her. Never could move on, whatever that meant. Did Merle mean he should find someone else? He couldn't fathom the idea. He was sure he'd never want anyone else no matter how much time passed.

Being with Beth again was something he never thought would happen and being with her platonically was a whole other level of torture. One he didn't mind so much. It was better than not having her in his life at all. Seeing her mother their daughter added an emotional complexity he couldn't quite grasp. It made him see her in a different light. She was responsible, confident. She took great pride in her place as a mother and she did a damn good job of it too.

Despite his confusion on what he should be feeling and how he should deal with it, he kept moving forward. Determined to make it work.

He was looking forward to the weekend in particular. It was the fourth of July and he had three days off in a row and he planned on spending every second he could with _his girls_ \- a term he'd yet to say aloud.

Beth said Billie was too young to stay out late for the town's firework display but suggested they meet in town to partake in the other festivities. Daryl knew Billie would enjoy the parade. Vintage cars and old tractors and candy being thrown from the floats.

Instead of meeting in town as they had planned he rolled down their driveway a little before the time they were supposed to meet. Thankfully Annette answered the door instead of Maggie or Glenn. He wasn't sure which was worse. Maggie because, well, she was Maggie and was fixated on making his life hell, or Glenn because of Daryl's insistent jealousy.

"Well, hello there Mr. Dixon," Annette said in a teasing tone. She was hesitant about Daryl's sudden reappearance in her daughter's life, she was polite. Didn't act like she hated him, at least. "I thought you were meeting the girls in town?"

"We were, but I got something to show 'em."

"Oh, really?" She asked a smile brightened her already friendly face.

He grinned one side of his mouth lifting and motioned with his head to the driveway.

"Well! Ain't that something. I'll go fetch Beth. She'll love this."

A few moments later Beth appeared with Billie on her hip and a big bag hanging from her other shoulder. Kids sure had a lot of stuff, he thought as he took the bag from her. He knew by now it was Billie's bag. It held a change of clothes. Diapers, wipes. A few small toys and a board book or two. Not to mention her blanket. Beth explained to him that Billie was more attached to Ellie the Elephant than her blankie, but she occasionally wanted her blankie so it went with them everywhere in that bag.

Billie dove for Daryl and he easily grasped her with one arm. He'd never tire of her little arms reaching around his neck and hugging him tightly. Her little _Hi_ warmed him. What would Merle have to say about that, he thought with humor?

"I'm sorry, weren't we meeting in town or did I get things mixed up?" She asked, a bit flustered. He wasn't that early but he imagined every minute counted when you were getting ready to leave the house with a toddler.

"No, I wanted to show ya' something," he said, barely able to contain a full smile. He moved out of her view of the driveway and a bubble of laughter escaped her throat.

"What is that?" She asked.

"It's a truck," he answered the obvious. "I can't be drivin' y'all 'round on a motorcycle, can I?"

"You bought a truck?" She questioned in response to his question.

"Yeah. It's pretty old, but it runs good," he said of the square body Chevy. "Abraham gave me a good deal. He got a new truck, sold me his old one."

Beth climbed down the porch steps, Daryl following, to get a better view. "But what'd you do with your bike?" She asked, turning back to him. "Don't tell me you sold it."

It was brief, but it was there - the slightest tinge of regret in his eyes.

"It wasn't practical anymore. Tired of freezing my ass off come winter."

Conflicted, she stood in silence a moment before going to him. Surprising them both, she reached up and cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand.

"Daryl. You didn't have to sell your bike." She knew what it meant to him. Knew how long he'd had it, how he babied it. More so, she suspected it was a fleeting connection to Merle. They'd spent hours and miles on their motorcycles.

"Ain't nothin'," he lied. It had been painful to sell the Harley. What he said was true, though. It wasn't practical. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make this transition for Beth and Billie easier.

He debated buying the truck and also keeping the Harley. The truth was he could use the extra money selling the bike brought in. He was determined to get the house fixed up before winter. He didn't expect Beth to let Billie spend much time at his place but she sure wouldn't if it stayed the dump it currently was. He planned on making the small second bedroom for Billie. A place to keep a few toys. A crib maybe even. Maybe, someday she'd be able to use it. He didn't bring that up to Beth yet, though. He had to wait for the right time. He didn't want to scare her off.

Billie, having enough of their boring adult conversations wiggled down out of Daryl's arms, breaking his and Beth's contact. Feeling cold without Beth's touch, Daryl placed his hand on her hip, tugged lightly bringing her closer to him.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy."

Beth shook her head and looked at the truck again. "I am happy, if you're happy," she spoke with uncertainty. "I just can't believe you sold your bike. I'm sorry you felt you had to do that."

"I wanted to sell it."

"I don't want us to be a burden to you. if you wanted to keep it, you should have. We can always take my car."

"Y'all ain't a burden," he said affronted. "I wanted to do this. It was time to sell it 'n move on from that life."

"You're turning your life upside down. I don't want you to regret anything or worse yet, feel like you're stuck here." Beth's voice rose slightly, she was getting upset.

"This is what I want. I ain't stuck. Believe me when I say I want to be here," he reassured.

Doubt clouded Beth's gaze. Then she nodded, reaching up on her toes she placed a chaste kiss to his stubbled cheek. "Thank you."

That little kiss did more to his body than anything had done since she left. His shoulder tensed, the muscles in his stomach tightened, his dick pulsed.

"You don't gotta' thank me"."

"I know," Beth said barely above a whisper. "I appreciate what you're doing for Billie."

"I'm not only doing it for Billie."

They stared at each other for a moment longer, the pull between them was almost visible.

After a moment Daryl cleared his throat, nodded toward Billie. "I guess she approves."

She stood at the door of the truck making _Vroom Vroom_ noises. They both laughed as she jumped up a few inches off the ground trying to reach the doorknob above her head.

"I got somethin' else to show ya'," he said grabbing Beth's hand pulling her to the truck, opening the driver's side door. Inside was a new car seat in pink and black, Billie's favorite colors. Sitting in the car seat was a stuffed giraffe.

"Like I said I didn't know what to get Billie for her birthday. I know a car seat is boring."

Beth felt unexpectedly emotional. It was more than an old truck. It was more than a car seat. It was more than a stuffed animal. She had been skeptical when Daryl said he wanted to be a part of Billie's life. So far he had gone above and beyond what her highest expectations had been, which were admittedly low.

"The box said it'd last till she was four or something. That seems like a long time. We didn't have no car seats when we were young." Daryl was a little uncomfortable by Beth's uncharacteristic lack of words, so he prattled on. "We can return it if you want to get another kind."

"No," Beth finally spoke. "It's really great."

She was fighting back tears. It confused him. Was she crying because she was upset, or was she crying because she was happy? Something he never understood.

Beth broke the momentarily spell, calling to Billie. "Hey," she spoke more cheerfully. "Look Billie, what's Daryl have?"

He took the giraffe from the seat and offered it to Billie. She squealed and clapped her hands reaching for the toy. Daryl handed it off, watching as she held the giraffe up to the elephant, seeming to introduce them.

Whatever passed between him and Beth, he wasn't sure if it was good or bad or both, but it seemed to have passed now and Beth was back to her normal happy self. She was excited about the truck and the car seat. Daryl helped Billie up into the truck and into the seat. Together they adjusted the straps and buckled Billie in before heading off to town.

* * *

It seemed like everyone was in town. Normally he'd cringe at the crowds, with Beth and Billie by his side he didn't mind so much. Part of him didn't give a shit what others thought, the other part of him wanted everyone to see they were together. Rumors were flying, maybe this would help set some of those tongue waggers straight. He wanted everyone to see he was there for Billie. Being a good dad - he hoped.

Beth and Billie wore matching dresses of striped red, white and blue. Billie, carrying the ever-present stuffed elephant under one arm, the giraffe under the other, dark hair up in pigtails and Beth's up in a messy bun to fend off the heat. Tendrils falling down her kissable bare neck, his fingers tingling to trace the skin of her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm.

Billie had a blast. She wasn't scared when the fire trucks went by blowing their horns and she wasn't the least bit shy when it came to scooping the candy up that was tossed out. Beth only allowed her to have one candy and put the rest in her purse claiming she didn't want Billie's teeth to rot out before the adult teeth even came in.

After the parade they walked through town, Beth on one side holding Billie's right hand, he on the other side holding Billie's left hand. For that afternoon he felt like they were a real family, the three of them.

He stood quietly by while Beth chatted with whoever came up to them. If they showed an interest or curiosity about the quiet man standing off to the side sometimes holding Billie, sometimes not, she'd say something to the effect of, "Do you remember Daryl? He grew up here." Or "This is Daryl." She kept it short and to the point. Luckily not many people paid him much attention. He preferred it that way.

When they ran into Magna and who he guessed to be her girlfriend, a woman she introduced as Yumiko, it was his turn to talk.

"Manga, you remember Beth?" Then to Beth, he said, "Magna got me the job at the center."

"You're a good worker, I'm sure Abraham woulda hired you anyway."

He felt it was dumb, but Magna's compliment made him feel good. Taking pride in his job, no matter how hot and sweaty and thankless everyone thought it was, was new to him. To him, it wasn't thankless or pointless. Sweaty and hot yes, pointless? No.

"Course I remember Beth. And little Miss Billie," she said kneeling down to her height and tickling her ribs lightly sending Billie into hysterics.

After making small talk, they parted ways. Not before Magna smiled at him knowingly. He was sure to hear about this on Monday. She'd want all the details of why he was with Beth when the last time they talked about it he was drunk and trying unsuccessfully to dodge the subject. Thankfully, at least she didn't bring up that night at the truck stop in front of Beth. He waved her off, giving her a glance of warning to which she smiled, laughed quietly.

He realized he'd made a friend in Magna.

* * *

When it came to fireworks, as the evening went on, Beth was a firm no. Daryl managed to talk her into letting Billie try her first sparkler though. In the park where people were mingling about, he lit it and handed it over to a mesmerized Billie. She took it, eyes large, squealing the word "Pretty!"

Beth fretted saying she was going to get burned from the sparks so he placed his hand over the top of Billie's, holding the sparkler with her, protecting her from the harmless sparks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beth smile and relax enough to take her phone out of her back pocket and snap a picture.

"Such a good daddy," an older woman nearby commented.

Beth smiled widely. "He is."

If Beth thinks that then maybe it's partially true. Or maybe she was just being polite, the constant negativity planted seeds of doubt in his head.

"Here," the woman motioned for Beth's phone. "Let me take a picture of the three of you."

Beth began to refuse, not wanting to be a bother the woman, but she waved her off. "I insist. One thing I regret is not getting more pictures of myself and my husband and our three sons."

Surprisingly, Daryl didn't bulk at having his photo taken. He tossed the extinguished sparkler in a nearby water bucket and picked up Billie. Beth slid into his side and it seemed natural to put an arm around her.

The woman snapped a picture. "You be sure to get this printed out now. You're gonna wish you did that as well," the woman added as she gave the phone back and hustled off into the crowd.

Beth didn't move from her spot next to him and he didn't feel inclined to remove his arm. She held the phone up so they could review the picture. Beth was beautiful of course. Billie was adorable and was obviously saying "cheese". Daryl wasn't exactly smiling. There was however an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

"Daryl Dixon, you look almost happy," Beth teased.

"I am," he admitted.

"Me too," Beth said, surprising him.

It was hard to believe once upon a time he would have easily bent his head, placing a casual kiss to her lips. There was a time when they hardly kept their hands off each other. It seemed like a lifetime ago, which it kind of was. They were two different people then. Now they had Billie and nothing was as simple as it had been when Beth was nineteen and he was twenty-four.

By then Billie was done with posing for a picture and wiggled out of Daryl's arms. Ready to go on to the next thing taking them out of the moment. To which Daryl was thankful. He didn't know what to make of these moments of temptation where he wanted nothing more than to take Beth in his arms.

* * *

After a while, it was time to head home and they began the trek back to the truck parked behind the coffee shop when a voice in the crowd stopped them, gaining their attention.

"Well, what do we have here?" A man on a motorcycle was parked illegally, squeezed in between two other vehicles along the angled parking.

"Son of a bitch," Daryl mumbled under his breath.

Beth swooped up Billie, unable to read the tone or inflection of his voice.

By then the man had dismounted his motorcycle and removed his helmet and was standing next to Daryl. The man was backlit by a street light and was about Daryl's height, shaggy black hair pushed off his face. They embraced one another, patting each other loudly on their backs the way men do.

"How the hell are ya'?" Daryl asked.

Then Beth recognized him. Shane. Still handsome as the devil himself and probably just as dangerous. He was Daryl's ride or die, second only to Merle since they were about ten. She never spent much time with him, he was doing his own thing by the time Daryl and Beth got together. She remembered Daryl dropping everything when he came back into town to spend time with him, though.

"I'm doin'," he said, laughing.

They bantered back and forth before Shane noticed Beth standing behind Daryl, realized they were together.

"Beth!" He said, clearly surprised. "Good to see you."

"Nice to see you too," Beth told him stiffly. Not rude, not happy to see him either. Last she knew, he was heading down the same path as Daryl and Merle, selling and taking any drug he was able to get his hands on.

"Who's this?" He asked of Billie who snuggled into Beth's shoulder to avoid him. One of the only people Beth had seen Billie shy away from.

"This is Billie," she said simply. Shane didn't need an explanation. Definitely not one from Beth.

"What are you doin' here?" Daryl asked, rescuing Beth.

"Well, you disappeared off the face of the planet. Finally got a call into Merle at the prison and he said you were here. So I thought, what the hell? I'll just go check this out for myself."

"Yeah, I been back about three, four months?" He looked over to Beth for confirmation. She nodded.

"Why the hell would you come back here?" He asked with a laugh. Daryl didn't answer. Wasn't it clear?

He shifted a side-eye in Beth's direction. She moved Billie from one hip to the other, deftly catching the giraffe before it fell to the ground. She appeared uncomfortable in the presence of Shane. Or was it someone from Daryl's past in general that made her uncomfortable?

Sensing Beth's apprehension, Daryl cut the reunion short. "We were just heading home. Why don't you come by the house later tonight and we'll catch up."

* * *

By the time they got home Billie was sound asleep in her car seat, tucked in with her blanket and elephant and the new addition of the giraffe which Beth had started calling Johnny.

Though Beth said she could handle it, Daryl gently lifted Billie out of the seat, Beth grabbing the blanket and stuffed animals, and the diaper bag. With these little things, they worked together seamlessly, without words as a unit.

He was sorry to drop them off. They'd spent the afternoon and a good portion of the evening together but he wanted more time with them. He wanted to tuck his daughter into bed. Sit on the couch with Beth, watch something dumb on television, have a snack. Shower. Crawl into bed with her.

At the door, Beth took Billie from him, somehow juggling her and everything else.

"I had a great time," Beth said quietly. There were a few lights on inside the house. The muffle of a television could be heard through the screen. "I think she did too."

Daryl nodded, he had a good time too.

Where was Glenn? Didn't he care Beth was out with some other guy? Even if he was Billie's dad it seemed odd he, or any guy for that matter, would be fine with his girlfriend spending that much time with another man.

Daryl reached around Beth and opened the door for her, wishing she'd invite him inside. It didn't surprise him when she didn't. He probably would have turned her down anyway. Not because of Glenn. He actually couldn't say why. Keeping a semblance of distance was probably a good idea.

He told her they'd talk tomorrow and watched her disappear into the dim foyer, something akin to longing burning in his chest. Billie's cheek squished plumply against Beth's shoulder.


	12. Vortex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Hope you enjoy the chapter (and the next).

There was no way he would be able to sleep. It's too hot, his mind was too full. So he sat on the top step of the small porch he finally managed to fix, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his throat beginning to turn raw.

Blowing smoke up into the dark sky, thinking back on the day. He hadn't expected to have such a good day. He knew it'd be a good day because any day with Billie and Beth was a good day, the time he spent with them today, together as if they were some sort of the family was better than he anticipated. He hadn't expected to enjoy it so much. People and crowds weren't his thing. But for the first time in his life, he walked with purpose, with his head up, looking people in the eye as they passed.

He had a reason to be there, to take up the space his five foot ten inch frame needed. Billie gave him that purpose. She was all the reason he needed. It was all for BIllie.

Her mother was a different story. She gave him a different kind of purpose. She was a gatekeeper of sorts. One that, rightfully, guarded Billie. She also guarded her heart against him. He had it once, he was afraid she wouldn't trust him with it again.

He didn't remember the moment he fell in love with Beth. It just happened. One day they were together and he never looked back. He knew she was too good for him. He couldn't resist her and he didn't try to.

It had been the first real relationship for both of them. No one approved but Beth was over eighteen so not much could be done. The Greene's either accepted it or ignored it. Merle didn't care one way or the other. He wasn't one to begrudge his baby brother a girl like Beth.

Something that didn't bypass Daryl was that Beth was different around him. More reckless. Wilder. A closet rebel for a small town such as this. That wild side had always been there, he just gave her a safe place to let it out.

When she got a tattoo, written in fancy script high on her hip, _Stay Wild Moon Child,_ he didn't try to discourage her.

When she got drunk the first time he only made sure she was safe. Hell bent on getting drunk, she procured a fifth of Peach Schnapps from someone. Well, he wasn't going to let her first drink be no Peach Schnapps, so he supplied the moonshine. He was there to hold her hair back when she puked the moonshine up.

When she decided not to go to college he supported her. Though he made it clear he thought she shouldn't stay behind because of him. If she wanted to go then she should. If she didn't want to then she shouldn't. He emphasized she needed to make that decision for herself, not for her parents and not for him.

He wasn't her keeper. He had no interest in _handling_ her. That's not what she needed. She needed a space where she could just be. He gladly gave that to her.

They were both young and immature. Fighting like hell one minute, going at it in the alleyway behind the coffee shop the next. Hot fire and cool water. Two fundamental elements simultaneously coupling and clashing.

They never could be without one another for longer than the couple days it took for their tempers to wane. At some point, again he wasn't sure when things began to blur. His priorities began to shift. His affection for Beth never diminished inwardly but outwardly the drugs and dealing made everything convoluted and tangled.

In other words, he fucked things up.

The unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle interrupted his thoughts. Daryl was instantly on guard. A side effect of being a criminal in some facet or another for too long. His eyes narrowed in the distance, listening. He was the only one that lived down the dead-end road. His dad would use it to his advantage when he was making 'shine. Ol' Will was always prepared for whoever came over the hill.

He went back inside, slipped the Glock he now kept on top of the fridge into the back waistband of his jeans. Going back to the door he stood off to the side, waiting to see who this was and what they wanted.

It wasn't until the driver shut the engine off and removed his helmet that he recognized it to be Shane. Daryl forgot he ran into him earlier in the night telling him to stop by. It left his mind the second he said it, so preoccupied by Beth and Billie he'd been.

He and Daryl shook hands when he reached the top step.

"Didn't know if you'd be here, or if you'd be alone," Shane said in place of a greeting. "Thought maybe you'd be with Beth."

"Na' I'm alone. Just me and the trees," he said gesturing to the thick woods that surrounded the house. They couldn't see them of course. Save for the porch light, it was black as pitch this time of night.

Shane followed Daryl into the house. "I gotta say it's good to see you. Ain't really seen anyone in years. Wanna Coke?"

He and Shane would go without speaking to each other and then pick up where they left off with no problem. This time they hadn't seen each other in about a year. Shane reminded him of Merle and the times they'd all spent together. There were a lot of bad times but even more good times. That life he had with Merle felt eons away. Like a dream that quickly fades in the early morning light.

Before giving him a chance to answer, Daryl retrieved two cans from the fridge. Setting one in front of Shane who made himself at home at the kitchen table.

He eyed the can dubiously, popped the top anyway, and took a swig. They caught up on the past couple of years they missed out on. Not much had changed for Shane. He was still bumming around, just as Daryl had been. No plans for the future. Wandering around taking it day by day. Selling, dealing. Using.

"I can't believe you're working at the recycling center."

"Yeah, it's a shitty job. But it's honest work. You know there's not much 'round here."

"Oh, I know," he mumbled.

Shane stood and paced around the small house. If Daryl wasn't mistaking he was coming down. He had that tired, twitchy, irritable look he knew all too well. His hand shook when he drank from the can of Coke and his knee didn't stop jiggling the entire time he was sitting. Now he was pacing back and forth.

"Honest work?" He questioned with a thin smile.

"Yeah, honest work." He didn't expect Shane to understand. Hell, he himself wouldn't have understood a short time ago either. Straight work was for straightlaced chumps. Little did he know he would become one of those straitlaced chumps. Willingly.

Shane sighed like an exhausted father who doesn't know what to do with his troublesome son. He went to the window and looked out at the ink blackness past the porch light.

Suddenly he turned back to Daryl, focused now. Almost alarmed. "Nice truck. Where's your bike?"

"Oh," Daryl stalled by taking a drink. "I sold it," he said into the can of Coke.

"What?"

Daryl didn't respond, Shane heard him right. He stomped back to the table and yanked out a chair, faced his friend. "Tell me you're fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," he confirmed.

"Why the fuck would you do that? You've had that bike longer than most marriages last."

"I needed a truck," he explained simply. He understood Shane's shock. Understood that biker mentality. You broke up with girlfriends, divorced wives, skipped town, evaded the cops, but you never sold your motorcycle.

"You needed a truck? So you sell your bike? What the hell man?" Shane looked at Daryl like he didn't recognize his own friend. His brow furrowed in disappointment. "You coulda' at least sold it to me."

Daryl thought about that, but then he'd have to hear Shane go on about selling it and how he was changing, how he was selling out. Just like he was doing now.

"Save it, okay? I did what I had to do. It's gone now. Nothing we can do 'bout it. Sold it to some guy on Craigslist."

"Craigslist?" Shaine questioned angrily.

Daryl nodded, shifted his eyes to the windows behind Shane, shutting him out. He wasn't going to be lectured by Shane of all people. He'd never understand putting someone else's needs above your own.

Shane sat there for a while and pouted until Daryl broke the silence, outright asking him, "Why are you here?"

They'd both taken off at different points in their lives, both swearing they'd never come back. Yet here they both were.

Daryl could ask himself the same question. Except he didn't dare. Coming back here was meant to be - if he believed in such things. If he hadn't come back he might have missed out on Billie's life, he didn't want to think about that, didn't want to play that 'what if' game.

Shane lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, leaned back in the chair, kicked his feet out. Still brooding about the motorcycle. "I heard 'bout Merle getting busted. I'm really sorry about that. Fifteen years?" He whistled through his teeth. "That's tough."

Daryl nodded. Whenever he thought of Merle being in a jail cell for that long his chest got tight and achy. He would have been with Merle the day he got busted had he not been at home too hungover to get out of bed. Feeling sorry for himself, missing Beth though she'd been gone over a year at that point.

Guilt co-mingled with relief. Guilt for not being there with Merle and relief because he _wasn't_ with Merle. It had been dumb luck.

Apparently, the judge was trying to set an example to those who dealt opioids because he stuck Merle with the maximum sentence allowed with an exuberant smile on his face.

"He sounded good when I talked to him the other day," Shane commented when Daryl didn't reply.

"I haven't seen him in a while." Hadn't talked to him either. More guilt singed in his chest like a heartburn that wouldn't go away. He made a mental note to figure out when he could make the trip to the prison. No more pussyfooting around it. He couldn't ditch his own brother. Ditch his bike? Yes. Ditch his old life? Yes. His brother? No. What kind of person could leave his own brother to rot in jail for fifteen years.

Shane nodded. He understood. Seeing Merle in jail was a reminder of where either of them could easily be. "I see why you came back here though. Beth's lookin' good," he smiled, his mood shifting quicker than a jackrabbit running away from a coyote.

Daryl's hackles needlessly went on edge. Shane wasn't the type to move in on someone's girl, not that Beth was 'his girl'. Not that Shane was Beth's type.

"That's not why I came back. After Merle was put away I didn't have anywhere else I wanted to go." Something had pulled him back here. He needed to come back where it all started. "I didn't even know Beth was back in town when I got here."

"I really thought y'all would be together for, like, ever."

_Me too._

Shane knew that she left him. Came to Atlanta and took him out for a weekend of drinking and drugging to commemorate. That was the extent of it. They never spoke of her again. Until today.

"This town is like a vortex. Sucks us all back in."

"So, are you staying long?" Daryl asked, changing the subject.

"I dunno. Guess it depends."

"On what?"

"On whether or not you're willing to help me out."

Ah, Daryl thought, the real reason Shane was there. It wasn't just to check up on him now that Merle was in jail.

"I got some stuff to move. I could use your help," Shane finally admitted."Since you've gone MIA Negan's wondering where you are. We lost two of our best runners."

Negan. There's a name Daryl hoped to never hear again. He was the founder of the Angels motorcycle 'club' he'd been a member of since he was seventeen years old.

Faced head on with his past, Daryl kept his mouth shut.

"I'm guessin' you could use some quick cash."

"Uh huh. No way. I'm done with all that shit."

Shane's eyes widened. The can of Coke froze halfway to his mouth. He let out a small belch of a laugh. "What the hell?" He asked, setting the drink back down and leaning forward. "You're shittin' me."

"I'm not gonna end up like Merle."

Shane scoffed. "That ain't gonna happen to you. No offense to Merle but you're way smarter than he is. I heard he was wasted when they busted him. You just gotta keep your mind clear You'll be fine," he said dismissively.

"I'm done. That little girl Beth was holding today? She's my _daughter_." The word daughter felt large and cumbersome. Strange, yet right.

Shane's eyes widened in shock. "What the fuck man?"

Daryl chuckled. "My sentiment exactly. I was shocked when I came back here and found out. Still kinda am," he said, smiling to himself.

"You mean you didn't know Beth had a kid? _Your_ kid?"

Daryl briefly explained how he found out about Billie's existence. Shane was almost as shocked as he had been.

"Why didn't she tell you before?" Shane asked. "Before she left you."

"Why _would_ she tell me? I was in no position to be a father."

"I hear kids aren't cheap. They always need something. Shoes, clothes. Food."

Daryl thought back to the birthday party and how obvious it was to him that Billie had everything her little heart desired including a fucking pony. What could he offer her on his piddly little salary? It was tempting to take Shane up on his offer. In the end, the risk wasn't worth the reward. He'd work even more hours if he had to. Get a second job. A better job. He wasn't going back to dealing or the club. He was out of that business for good.

"So that's it? Just 'cause you got a kid you're washing your hands of the club?"

"Yep. I'm never goin' back to the life I had before."

He didn't even feel the slightest bit regret about it. This is where he belonged. Here in this town with Beth and Billie.

"How ya gonna support her?" Shane asked, annoyance sparked. "Working at the recycling center for a shit wage? What about the club? What about Negan? You owe him for taking a chance on a hoodrat kid like you."

"What about Negan?" Daryl asked. "The club didn't do shit when Merle went away."

They all faded away after Merle's arrest. Daryl was too much of a liability, afraid he was being watched by the authorities or who-the-hell-ever.

"You know that's what happens when someone gets busted. They can't risk it."

"Yeah, well I can't risk it either." Yes, that lifestyle had been more lucrative, it wasn't worth it. "I can't fuck this up. I have to do right by Billie." _And right by Beth._ "I can't risk Beth getting spooked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no affiliation with the Angels (or Hells Angels). Don't come for me please. lol  
> Thanks for reading!


	13. When The Past Comes Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

Beth doesn't remember the moment she fell in love with Daryl like some women can recall the precise moment in time or maybe the gesture that tipped the weight. Like her friend Amy claimed she fell in love with her husband when he gingerly took his grandmother's hand and guided her across the rain dampened parking lot to her car after lunch at a restaurant.

It wasn't like that for them. It seemed one day he and Merle were customers that came into the shop on a regular basis, the next she was riding on the back of his motorcycle. In actuality it wasn't that quick, they'd been coming into the coffeehouse for about a year before Daryl appeared in the alleyway one day when she was done with her shift. From that point on they were just together.

There was an unspoken rule between the two of them that they would not see anyone else. An unwritten code. Daryl wouldn't pick up any women when he and Merle we're out and about and she would no longer go out on dates with guys she once would have. She had only gone out with them because she was expected to date. She went out with them to pass the time. They paled in comparison to Daryl.

She and Daryl spent Saturday night and most Sunday's together and whatever weeknight worked out for both their schedules. Her spot was on the back of his bike, a spot no other woman ever rode after her.

No, she didn't remember the precise moment she fell in love but she did remember the first time he told her he loved her. It had been quite by mistake. There had been a misunderstanding involving a skinny punk of a guy named Spencer that wouldn't leave her alone. Naturally, Daryl beat his ass and was confused as to why Beth was angry with him afterward.

" _He was messing with you. Now he won't," Daryl told Beth, breathing raggedly. Spencer's brother and friends had picked him up off the pavement where he lay bleeding and dazed, shoving him into a car they quickly left, leaving Daryl and Beth alone._

" _I don't need you to protect me." She crossed her arms over her chest, certifiably pissed at him. "I can handle Spencer. I've known him since we were in preschool together." It was a fight they'd had before, probably a fight similar to one that a lot of young couples have._

" _No one messes with my girl," he shouted, letting his fear and frustration echo into the dark. He knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth._

_She dropped her hands to her waist, cocking her chin. Her lips formed a thin line and a crease appeared between her eyebrows. "Your girl?_

" _Fuck," he mumbled under his breath._

" _Fuck is right. Fuck you. What are you a caveman? You gonna' club me over the head and carry me off to your cave."_

_Beth at that age was fearless, bordering arrogant. Cocky in a 'I don't need you' kind of way. In that way she and Daryl were alike. In many other ways, they were different. So much so people didn't understand why they were together._

" _He had his hands on you," Daryl tried explaining, digging himself into a deeper hole._

_Admittedly she liked it when he called her "his girl" when he did so with affection and love. Not in the context of ownership. And if he couldn't tell the difference, we'll then…_

" _I was handling him."_

" _Right," he scoffed._

_He saw it. Saw how she wasn't handling it. It made him see red._

_They had agreed to meet in town after work. It was dark by the time he made it back and located her in the city parking lot. A few cars were parked haphazardly and a few guys loitered near them. Beth leaned against her car, talking. Friendly enough. One punk with the perfectly quaffed hair, ironed white polo shirt with a collar and what looked to be brand new jeans, kept putting his arm around Beth, pulling her closer. She politely dodged him. He wasn't easily deterred._

_Watching as he drove up the side street on his motorcycle, Daryl recognized him. He'd given Beth shit before. Kept pestering her to go out with him. She kept telling him no and Daryl was losing patients with the punk. It wasn't a secret he and Beth were together. Either this kid was blind or just didn't care. Apparently, he needed Daryl to explain it to him._

_Daryl pulled into the parking lot, parked and went straight up to Spencer as he hurriedly untangled his arm from Beth's waist. They were about the same height. Probably, maybe, even matched strength wise. Spencer was young and obviously worked out, his biceps bulged, stretching the fabric of his too tight shirt._

_What a lot of people didn't know is it doesn't matter how strong you are if you didn't know how to throw a punch._

" _You touching my girl?" Daryl asked._

_Beth sighed, rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers, not in the mood for this today. Not after a long day of serving coffee and then chores at home._

" _What's your problem?" Spencer had the balls to ask._

" _I think you need to leave Beth alone," Daryl growled._

" _Daryl," Beth cautioned, trying her best to squash whatever was about to happen. "Spencer didn't mean anything by it. He was just leaving."_

" _I was?" Spencer asked obstinately, egging Daryl on. "What are you? Her keeper?" He snickered nasally looking over his shoulder at his friends who laughed uncomfortably in return._

_When he turned back to face Daryl, he wasted no time in planting a fist into Spencer's nose. His head snapped back but he stayed on his feet and gave a half-hearted throw. Daryl dodged it smoothly, sending another fist into Spencer's stomach. He doubled over and once he fell to the ground, Daryl snatched him up by his collar, ripping his pristine shirt, hammering his fist into his perfect face._

_Beth pulled at Daryl's arm, yelling his name. Her voice didn't register and he didn't stop until he realized Spencer was a mumbling pile of blood on the pavement. He stood and backed off as Spencer's friends picked him up. The only evidence Daryl was in a fight at all was his bloodied knuckles._

_Beth was on her way back to her own vehicle, angrier at Daryl than she'd ever been. He followed her, attempted to pull her to him. She, unsurprisingly, shoved him away. Did he really think she'd let him touch her now?_

" _What the fuck, Beth?"_

" _I don't need a bodyguard," she yelled._

_Daryl was confused, his shaggy hair falling down into his face. Normally she'd brush it away, say something about him getting a haircut. Not tonight though._

" _I know that I'm not your bodyguard. I'm your… I'm your boyfriend."_

_He cringed at the word boyfriend. He felt much more than that to her. It's funny how he can beat the hell out of someone without so much as batting an eye but the idea of Beth being mad at him sent him over the edge._

" _What the hell do you want me to do? Just let that little bastard mess with you? Put his hands on you? Where I come from that's not how things are done."_

" _Where you come from?" She sneered. "Last I knew you came from the same town I do and people don't just go around beating the hell out of a person."_

" _Fine, forget it. If you want some douchebag guy hanging on you that's your business," he said and stomped off towards his bike._

_Panic prickled in Beth's throat. Was he breaking up with her? She was so used to Spencer being Spencer that she hadn't thought how his hanging on her might make Daryl feel. Of course, he'd be angry just as she'd be angry if some girl was hanging on him._

" _Daryl," she began, unsure what to say. I'm sorry was probably a good place to start._

_How he reacted wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to beat someone up just because you don't like what they do, but Spencer had no right touching her and she shouldn't have let him. Daryl was only doing what he does. Protecting what was important to him._

" _Please don't go. We can talk about it."_

_His initial response was to pound the shit out of someone, her first response was to talk it out._

_Hearing her small, wounded voice halted him. He stood for a moment with his back to her before turning around. "Don't you get it?" He asked his anger not yet fully subsided. "I care about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you and if I can stop it I'm gonna' try."_

" _Spencer wouldn't hurt me. He's just an idiot." she tried to appeal to his practical side._

_He turned toward his bike again, rumbly voice vibrating through the air. "You don't get it."_

" _What? What don't I get?"_

_His shoulders sank, his hands flexed into a fist before relaxing again. "I can't help that I love you."_

_Beth froze. Holding her breath so as not to disturb whatever it was that just happened. Tears burned her eyes, a smile played tentatively on her lips._

_He turned slowly, head down, eyes peering at her through his hair._

" _What?" Daryl asked confused. "Why you cryin'?"_

" _You said you love me," she managed to croak, the smile growing bigger._

" _Well, I do," he said simply, taking steps in her direction until he stood directly in front of her. Her head leaning back so she could look up at him._

_She brushed his hair, slick from sweat and the falling dew, away from his face, and then wound her arms around his neck. "I love you too."_

_She thought she'd been in love before, but Daryl showed her that it had been nothing but puppy love, a little crush here or there. What she felt for him was real. Laughing through tears, she jumped up into his arms and let him carry her over to her car, their mouths a tangle of lips and tongue and teeth._

In her office, Beth sighed. If she knew then what she knows now, she wouldn't do anything different. A different time or a different man and she wouldn't have Billie.

Back then, with Daryl's strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close, their bodies hot and desperate for one another, she couldn't think. She definitely didn't think about their future. Thinking about what might become of them and their relationship made her anxious because she didn't want to think about a future without Daryl, and Daryl wasn't a nine-to-five-come-home-at-the-end-of-the-day-to-a-wife-and-kids kind of guy. She convinced herself she was okay with that.

Until she got pregnant and it wasn't about her anymore.

* * *

Unable to concentrate Beth ducked out a bit early, stopping at the grocery store on the way out of town. When you have a toddler apparently running out of something, a favorite snack, diapers, a special treat, was a normal thing. Maybe she'd get something special, invite Daryl over for dinner. He hadn't been to a family dinner yet, only the occasional visit and the birthday party that, as far as she knew, went well.

She parked her car in one of the empty spots and made her way to the door, but she didn't get far before a low whistle caught her attention at the far end of the lot. She turned, smiling slightly, surprised at just how much she was hoping it'd be Daryl.

The figure in the shadows of the building the grocery store occupied was clearly not Daryl. His shoulders weren't as broad. His walk was different and when the figure came out of the shadows a shiver ran down her spine.

"Looky there, Beth Greene all grown up."

"Shane?" Beth asked. She'd hoped he'd had left town. Apparently, he hadn't.


	14. Starting At Zero

" _I been, thinkin'," Daryl said to Beth one evening. They spent a lot of time at Daryl's place. The house he and Merle grew up in, preferring to the farm where someone disapproving was always around. Merle spent most of his free time at the truck stop or wherever there was alcohol and women so they were alone most of the time during the week._

" _Thinkin' 'bout what?" She asked._

" _What do you say we just leave?"_

" _What? Beth asked, not really paying attention. He was drunk or high, she was not. She was trying to read and he was practically bouncing off the walls. Something told her he was more high than drunk. This wasn't his normal reaction to alcohol._

_He plopped down next to her on the couch. "Daryl, I'm reading," she half-heartedly chided him._

" _I know. I'm trying to get your attention." He plucked the well worn book out of her hand, trying to focus his floating eyes on the title. The four girls on the cover swayed. "What's so important about these Little Women anyway?" He asked._

_Beth sighed, fighting back the urge to laugh. Not many people knew this playful side to him. He was almost too serious. She'd been successful in getting him out his shell, at least when it was just the two of them. "Guess you'll have to read it to find out."_

_He snorted a laugh, tossed the back in her lap. "Now that I got your attention. Let's go. Just skip town."_

" _And leave all this? Leave our tiny town with all its amenities," she joked, setting the book on the table in front of them, giving up on it for the night._

" _Starting at zero, you ain't got nothin' to lose," he mumbled, snuggling his face into her neck, breathing deeply. "We can go to Mexico. Spend our days on the beach. You can wear that tiny bikini of yours," he said, trailing kisses down her neck._

" _What about my family? What about Merle?" Butterflies danced in her stomach. She loved her family, but Shawn wasn't home often and when he was he was the typical asshole older brother. Maggie was pissed off more often than not for whatever reason. Her mom was strong and independent, busy with her own life. Beth felt she was floundering, just going through the motions until she started up with Daryl. She quickly became tethered to him. Anchored. They had each other and that's all they needed. Really, what was keeping them there, she wondered?_

_Daryl laid down, rested his head in Beth's lap. Her fingers automatically running through his perpetually shaggy hair._

_He shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanna' be with you. You and me against the world, right?"_

_When he spoke like that, her chest flooded with warmth. She couldn't say she hated this sweeter, more vulnerable side to him - even if it was partially due to whatever he'd taken._

_Leaning forward she placed a kiss to his forehead, his skin was warm beneath her lips. His chest rose and fell like he'd just gotten back from a jog. Under her palm, his heart beat too hard, too fast. "Daryl," she said hesitantly. "What'd you take?"_

" _What do you mean?" He asked, always evasive when she inquired as to what pill he might have taken this time._

" _You know what I mean." They both knew what she meant. They'd had this conversation too many times lately._

" _Just somethin' Merle gave me."_

" _So you take whatever Merle gives you? No questions asked. That's not very safe."_

_Daryl let out a breath, his hand that had been idly rubbing her side, tickling her ribs slightly, dropped and moved to rest under his head. The pupils in his blue irises were tiny pinpoints, searching her face, trying to decipher if she was mad at him._

" _Can ya' at least wait for the buzz to wear off before you lecture me?"_

_She wanted to yell at him. Who did he think he was talking to her that way? She quickly decided against it. It wouldn't do any good anyway. He was a grown man and didn't need her to mother him. He was in a good mood, something of little occurrence lately, and after working all day she was tired. She wanted to hang out with her boyfriend, eat dinner, maybe go to bed early. Not spend the night arguing._

" _That ain't fair. I just worry about you," she said quietly not wanting the conversation to escalate._

" _I know." Reaching up he cupped her chin and she leaned into his palm. "I'm sorry, darlin'."_

_She nodded, quick to forgive. He didn't apologize often and when he did she took it seriously. "So," she said, shifting to lay down next to him, her body snug between his and the back of the couch. "Tell me more about Mexico."_

" _Warm sandy beaches. Just you and me." His tongue slipped between her lips, hand cupping her braless breast through her t-shirt. The mere touch of his lips against hers was enough to make her wet._

_She sighed out a moan. "And my bikini?"_

" _Na'. We'll find ourselves a secluded beach somewhere. No bathing suits required."_

_She liked the sound of that. Lifting her outer leg, she hooked it around his middle, pulling him closer into her. "So, we're on the beach, just the two of us. On a blanket, in the sand. I'm not wearing anything..."_

_She felt Daryl nod his head against her neck where his tongue was trailing along her ear._

" _What will you do with me all alone, naked on that beach?"_

_Daryl sat up quickly, shifting Beth to her back. "Well, you gotta be naked for me to show ya'."_

_She laughed as he grasped the hem of her shirt, sending it up and over her head, tossing to the side. At one time she'd been shy in front of him, preferring to remain partially clothed whenever they had sex. But he looked at her like no one else ever had, making her feel brave and bold. She no longer hid herself around him. It was as much a turn-on for her as it was him when he looked over her naked body._

_Breathless by his touch, Beth asked, "Shouldn't we go to your room. What if Merle comes home?"_

" _Na', I like to live on the edge," he said with a wink, unbuttoning her shorts._

_He kneeled on the sofa, pulling off her shorts and underwear, throwing them aside to join her discarded shirt. The dim lamplight glowing against her skin showing her taut stomach, small breasts, curvy ass. He wished he had the restraint to hold off so he could bask in her beauty just a little bit longer. Ultimately though, he wanted to be buried inside of her as quickly as possible._

_He quickly lifted his shirt up and over his head and laid over her, bracing himself with his elbows on either side of her. "Why do you put up with me?" He questioned._

"' _Cause I love you." It was a simple answer for her, one that didn't need any more explanation. Her words were enough for him. Running his fingers through her long hair, he pulled lightly, kissing her hard._

_He removed his jeans and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him tight to her body. When he slid into her, he watched as her eyes closed, her face relaxing into ecstasy._

_When they were together like this, Beth didn't think about the run-down house, or the old sofa they were having sex on. She didn't think about Merle walking in on them, didn't think about Daryl's mounting drug use. Didn't think about Maggie warning her against being with Daryl. Didn't think about the birth control she took sporadically at best. She didn't think about the scars on his back that her fingers trailed over. Or how they got there which any other time made her want to cry for the little boy so horribly abused he'd been._

_The only thing on her mind was Daryl. The only thing she felt was his body touching every inch of hers. How their bodies fit so perfectly together. How he knew just where and how to touch her. His hands, scarred and calloused, rough against her soft skin. She was soft where he was hard. His kisses stole her breath. It was cliche, something she thought only existed in books or movies until she experienced it herself._

_Leaning his brow to hers, he stopped. "Ya' know I love you, right?" He'd asked that sometimes. As though he needed the reassurance as though he didn't know or couldn't tell just by the way she looked at him._

_Switching positions so she was straddling him, his hands automatically going to her breasts, running over her shoulders, down her arms to rest on her hips._

_He made her feel things, not just emotionally, but in her body, she'd never thought possible. He penetrated her so deeply, filling her so completely. She shuddered, never wanting it to end, yet wanting it to end, so they can begin again._

" _Yes, I know," she answered that time, and every other time he asked._

* * *

_Luckily Merle didn't come home till late that night. By then they were asleep in Daryl's room. Merle could be heard through the walls stumbling around. Thinking she was asleep Daryl quietly got out of bed. A moment later, their muddled voices could be heard through the paper-thin walls. Beth, half asleep, didn't care what they were talking about anyway. Soon the distinct smell of skunk trailed in under the door._

_In the early morning, Daryl slid back into bed smelling of weed and beer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to his chest. When she got out of bed an hour later to get ready for work, she knew he'd sleep till noon then stumble blurry-eyed into the coffee house. And he'd smile at her as though she was the most important thing to him._

* * *

"Shane?" Beth asked. She'd hoped he had left town. Apparently, he hadn't.

"No hello? No nice to see you or how ya' been?"

It wasn't nice to see him and she didn't care how he'd been. "You startled me," she admitted.

She pulled her purse closer. Not because she was afraid he'd snatch it from her but to have better access to the can of mace she kept in the side pocket. She didn't know Shane anymore, he probably hadn't gone down a path of the straight and narrow the past few years. His deeply shadowed skin under his eyes and hollowed out cheeks told her he'd had seen a rough few years.

"Sorry," he said with a smirk that said he wasn't sorry.

"What are you doing here?" Here at the grocery store the same time she was.

"Like Daryl didn't tell you," he mocked.

"No, he didn't say anything about you." Daryl hadn't mentioned Shane and she didn't ask.

Shane circled Beth where she stood, a wolf circling its prey. Her eyes followed him when he came back to stand in front of her. "I came here to see if Daryl wanted to make some money. Just tryin' to help a friend out." He paused momentarily. "You _do_ know how he makes his money, right?"

She nodded. "He works at the recycling center."

Years ago, the few times Shane hung out with her and Daryl it was usually in a group setting, at a party, or with a few other people. She was sure to never be left alone with him, never one and one. He always made her overwhelmingly uncomfortable. She never could pinpoint exactly why. Now she understood as she was getting a glimpse of who he really was. Subconsciously, she'd always known.

"Yeah, he told me he was working there. I have no fuckin' clue why he'd want to, but I'm talkin' 'bout how he makes his real money."

"What do you mean?" She asked, growing even more impatient, wondering where he was going with his line of conversation.

He ignored her question. "I been watching you."

Beth's heart slammed into her ribcage. "Watching me?" She asked with a sinking realization it wasn't a coincidence he'd been at the store the same time she was.

"Uh huh, you and your little girl. You act all prim and proper now but back in the day you were just like the rest of us."

She took a steadying breath. "If I remember correctly I never sold any drugs if that's what you mean," she said flatly.

"No, you left the dirty work up to Daryl. You sure took anything that was offered to you, didn't ya? Drank plenty too. Smoked weed. You were right smack dab in the middle of it."

"That's not true," she said, wondering why she was dignifying Shane with any kind of response.

"Sure as shit it's true. Don't be such a hypocrite, Beth," he said, reaching into his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

It angered her because he was right. She did party when she was younger. Did that make her a hypocrite? She hadn't been as heavily into it as Daryl and Merle and, she imagined, Shane was. Yes, she drank and smoked marijuana occasionally. That was a long time ago, well before she got pregnant. As time went on she partied less and less. The deeper the guys got, the further away from it she became.

"That was when I was younger. I'm a mother now. I've grown up."

'Ya' ever hear of the Angels?" Shane asked, abruptly changing the direction of conversation.

She didn't want to respond, only stared into his cold dark eyes.

"Yeah, you have," he answered for her. "Didn't you ever notice the wings on Daryl's vest? Merle's? Mine?" He said, turning partly so she could see his cut that matched Daryl's.

Of course she had heard of them. The Angels were notorious in the surrounding areas all the way to Atlanta and beyond for all she knew. She never wanted to know what Daryl did for the group he claimed to be a motorcycle club. Naively she thought it was just that - a club. She didn't allow herself to think too deeply about where he got the drugs he sold and who he was moving them for. She was willfully ignorant when it came to what he and Merle did.

Finding her voice, she said by way of explanation, "That's all in the past. There's no way Daryl is still selling or a part of the Angels anymore," she said confidently. Simply put, there was no way he'd risk his relationship with Billie. Or her, she liked to think. "He promised me," she said softer, hating the emotion that clogged her throat. Was she ten years old? Believing in promises.

"He promised you?" Shane smirked cruelly. "You think he's gonna tell you anything? He told me how you'd take the little girl from him if he screwed up."

She hated that Shane was right. If she found out Daryl was still dealing it'd leave her no choice but to remove Billie and herself from his life.

Blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy, wondering why she was allowing Shane to interfere. Wondering why he was so hell-bent on interfering. Through clenched teeth, she asked. "What do you want from me?"

He blew smoke into the air and flung the half-smoked cigarette to the ground, took a step closer.

"I don't want anything from you, sweetheart," he said, dragging a finger lightly down her cheek, over the arch of her collarbone. "Just thought you needed a reminder of who you are. That you're no better than the rest of us."

"That's ridiculous. Just because I think slinging pills is a bad idea doesn't mean I think I'm better."

Ignoring her he continued, "You think Daryl will be happy stuck here working that shit job? Pretending to be someone he's not. You think he'll be happy with this life?" He gestured around him with a mix of disgust and pity.

"I think he cares for his daughter," she said, knocking his hand away. "And maybe that's enough."

Shane looked at her like that wasn't important, as though he couldn't grasp the concept. "You're banking a lot on 'maybe'."

Daryl was his own person and had only been back in their life a few short months. He could still deal and as much as she hated to admit it, Shane was right. Would Daryl really be happy living this normal quiet life?

Either way, she'd had enough, hated that she allowed this to go on as long as she had. "Leave me and my daughter alone," she said pushing past him.

Shane snatched her upper arm in his fist so fast she would have fallen from the force had he not kept a firm grasp on her. She tried yanking her arm back but he held on, pulled her close to his face.

"You just a selfish whore, ain't ya?"

Stunned by his words, she blinked back the tears that annoyingly stung her eyes. No one had ever called her a whore before. Or selfish.

"Daryl don't wanna' work at the recycling center. Doesn't want to live in that hellhole he grew up in," he practically growled. "Not even for a sweet piece a' ass like you. He's this lovesick little puppy and you use that to get what you want, using that little girl as leverage."

"You wait just a damn minute. That's not true." She wasn't using Billie as leverage. She was protecting her.

"Yeah right." Shane wouldn't hear of it. Tightening his grip on her arm he continued. Beth didn't even wince, didn't want to show him any pain. "Eventually he'll catch on and he'll get tired of it. Get tired of you using him for any sorry buck he makes, he'll get tired of playing daddy. You should just do him a favor and let him go now."

"Beth? You okay?"

Interrupted, they looked toward the entrance of the store. Carol stood there, apron wrapped tightly around her waist, a box cutter in her right hand at her side.

Shane reluctantly relinquished her arm, shoving her back a step, giving her a stare that would make a corpse's blood run cold. She stood stunned a moment, watching as he rounded the corner of the store disappearing out of her sight.

By then Carol was standing beside Beth, a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Who was that?"

"No one," Beth answered, voice shaky.

"You're shaking," Carol said, running a hand down her arm as though trying to warm her.

Carol insisted she come inside and sit down for a minute and warm up, even though it was eighty degrees outside and the air conditioning was going full blast in her little office.

"What is it with men? Thinking they can just put their hands on a woman," Carol said as she busied herself making Beth a cup of tea. "Course not all men are like that. Ezekial sure wasn't."

When it was ready, she sat the mug of tea in front of Beth and slid into the plastic chair next to her, continued her thought. "My first husband was brute if there ever was one."

"You were married before Ezekial?" Beth asked the first thing she'd said since entering Carol's office.

"Oh yes. Years ago. Sophia's father. But what he lacked, Ezekial made up for. Where one man can tear you down, it only takes one good one to build you back up. Do you want me to call someone for ya'? Daryl, maybe?"

Carol looked at Beth pointedly. She'd been at Billie's birthday party and seen them around town together. "No, please don't. I'm fine."

 _Fine_ , but her hands shook as she cupped the mug, bringing it to her mouth.

"Can't help but noticed the man you were talking to bore a striking resemblance to that Walsh kid. What's his name? Shane, Shawn?"

"Shane," Beth unintentionally whispered, her voice seemed to have escaped her.

"Still up to no good I see."

Beth nodded. They didn't say much more, only sat in silence sipping tea. Beth so numb she couldn't taste it. She appreciated Carol's solidarity. And appreciated that she didn't push her for more information than she was willing to give.

The items she intended to pick up were forgotten, when the mug was empty, she thanked Carol and went to her car. While in the comforting presence of Carol the shaking had subsided, now alone in the car, her body shook from head to toe.

As she drove out to the recycling center, part of her wondered if Daryl was actually there. Shane made her question everything. Did he really work at the center? Was he selling again? She had every intention of finding out if what Shane said was true. It didn't matter if this had been his intention - to cause a rift between herself and Daryl. She needed to find out the truth.

In the small parking lot, there were a few vehicles, she was only a tiny bit relieved to see Daryl's truck was one of them. Hesitating, she slowed but in the end, lost her nerve and kept driving. He could do what he wanted. What was she going to do? Nag him. Tell him selling drugs was bad?

No, he knew this. Her main concern needed to be Billie. If he chose to continue with the life he had before, then he was making a choice to not be in Billie's life. Period. End of story.

For a second time, she would have to walk away from Daryl just as it did before except this time it'd be much worse because Billie was involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: So obviously Beth wanted to see the best in Daryl and allowed it to blind her to his drug use. For a little context, not that it matters, but I'm putting Beth at about 20 years old during that time. So she'd be about 24 ish currently.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment!


	15. Delusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a chapter with a little more dialogue between Beth and Daryl.   
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment.

It had only been a few days, but there was a definite shift in the air. Daryl felt it deep in his gut. At first, he thought he'd give Beth some space. Maybe she was just busy. Surely she had to have a good reason for not calling him back. As time went on, it was becoming more obvious she was stonewalling him. Purposefully avoiding him.

He was doing all the things she asked of him; no drugs, no selling. No drinking, even though that wasn't one of her stipulations. He gladly gave up all of that. He wanted to live the life of a law-abiding citizen and a good dad. Good dads didn't sell drugs.

How quickly he got used to texting with Beth every day. Setting up plans, a funny thing Billie said or did. A picture of Billie being adorable. His favorite texts were of the photos that included Beth. Laying in bed, Billie sleeping snuggled against her. Sitting in the grass with a squirming Billie in her lap, Beth's arm outstretched to take the photo before Billie ran off again. Those were the best ones. The picture of the three of them taken on the fourth of July was saved as the wallpaper on his cellphone.

Since he didn't remember doing anything wrong in particular, the radio silence of the past couple of days worried him.

Seeing them left him even more unsettled. Driving through town one evening, he spotted Beth on the sidewalk with Billie. He almost pulled over and forced her to talk to him. Just a second after spotting them, Glenn came out of the hardware store, bending at the knees to pick up Billie who practically climbed up his legs. So casual like he's done it since day one, which, of course, he has.

Seeing Glenn and Beth and Billie together like they were a little family was enough to make him keep driving. But was he really going to just let Beth fall through his fingers again? Was he going to really give up on his daughter? If he did, he'd be doing what he promised Beth he wouldn't and he was determined to be better than who he used to be. No, he wouldn't give up on them.

Finally, something happened that pushed him over the edge. Something that snapped him back to reality, forcing him to get over his hurt feelings and act rather than waiting to see if Beth would come around.

"Hey Daryl," Carol said from behind the register at the grocery store. He was loading up more food than he'd ever bought in a single trip to the store onto the conveyor belt. Not just lunch meat and bread. Snack crackers, raisins, applesauce in small cups. Something called Veggie Straws he'd seen on a commercial that claimed to be a healthier option for kids than the Dorrito's he grew up on. Stuff he hoped Billie liked and Beth would approve of.

He wanted to be ready, just in case, Beth for some reason texted him out of the blue with a simple explanation as to why she'd been MIA.

He nodded to Carol. Mumbled out a hello.

Carol eyed him. Taking in his glum face, stooped shoulders. He appeared more pissed off than he normally did. Since he'd been back in town she had noticed a marked difference in him. He was no longer the sullen young man he'd been. He was still quiet, there was a change within him. That change, she suspected, was Billie and Beth.

"How ya been?" She asked. Minding her own business had never been her strong suit.

"Fine", was his brief answer.

Carol scanned the small packet of M&Ms. "Billie loves these," she mentioned, watching Daryl's reaction. An eyebrow rose slightly under the bill of his hat.

"Beth's pretty strict when it comes to sweets. Always buying fruits and vegetables."

"She is." The mere mention of them made his chest ache.

"She was in the other day," Carol said casually, putting the items in a paper bag. "Well, actually she was outside in the parking lot. Seemed to be in a heated discussion with that Walsh guy. Shane? Not sure what he's doin' back in town. Looked like he was up to no good."

This got Daryl's attention. He stood anchored to his spot in front of the cash register, the change from his purchases in one hand, wallet in the other.

"If I had to guess, he wasn't too happy. Neither was she. He had a pretty good grip on her arm. I interrupted them and he took off."

Quickly saying goodbye to Carol, he gathered his bags of groceries and jumped in his truck heading straight back home. Shane was where he'd left him - asleep on his couch.

* * *

_Using Billie as leverage._

Is that what she was doing by avoiding Daryl? She wasn't purposely ignoring him; she just didn't know what to say or how to handle things. His texts and calls went unanswered no matter how much she wanted to answer. She couldn't help but wonder if she let him go now, as Shane suggested, maybe his departure from her life wouldn't hurt so bad.

But hurt, it did.

It was crazy how quickly they fell back into each other's lives. How quickly the feelings she thought she'd buried so deep they could never be resurrected, resurfaced. She looked forward to seeing him, not just for Billie's sake but for her own.

Shane's return was a blatant reminder of who Daryl had been and how it might not be as easy as he claimed to drop his old ways. So she took the cowards way out and avoided him.

Beth acted as though nothing was wrong. At night, after Billie was in bed, she retreated to the bathroom, drew bathwater so hot it scalded her skin when she sunk down into it. She'd read over Daryl's texts then and let the tears, or anger or frustration, come through, sobbing or screaming into a towel.

 _Where are you?  
_ _Why aren't you answering me?  
_ _Did I do somethin to upset you?  
_ _Whatever it is, I'm sorry._

This was a different side to Daryl that she'd never seen before. A vulnerable desperate side.

No matter how unfair it was, she was afraid it had to be this way. What if Billie had been with her at the store when Shane threatened her? What if he would have done something stupid? What if he still did? Just that evening the family had been outside, enjoying the cooler night's air when off in the distance in a patch of trees a flash of movement caught her attention. Could be a deer, or a rabbit. Could be anything. Was it Shane?

No one had ever held a candle to Daryl and she couldn't imagine ever finding anyone that would. Feeling more so now than she ever had before that she was destined for a solitary life. She had her family, which she was grateful for, that wasn't the same as having someone by your side. It wasn't the same as having a husband and a father for your child.

Husband? Is that where, subconsciously, her mind had hoped things were heading? Well, that was ridiculous. She was happy with her life the way it was. Admitting, only to herself, she liked the life she caught a glimpse of in the last few months. The life she could have with Daryl.

She did her best to be a good mother, a good daughter, and a good worker and boss. Going on with her life as though her heart didn't have a deep chasm down the middle of it. All the while she knew keeping Daryl from Billie wasn't the answer.

* * *

Daryl picked Shane up by the collar. He snorted awake, looking confused, and dazed.

"What the fuck did you do?" Daryl yelled, his voice a bellow of outrageous indignation.

"What?" Shane slurred, still intoxicated and high from the night before.

Since Shane came back to town, he'd take off in the evenings leaving Daryl at home. He'd be passed out on the couch when Daryl got up for work the next morning. He didn't miss it in the least. His place was with Billie and Beth, even if they'd been absent recently - something he hoped to remedy with no help from Shane.

"Why would you go after Beth?"

It was no wonder Beth had been so distant. She was spooked off by Shane. Daryl needed to do damage control and fast.

Shane yanked away from Daryl, straightening to stand. "I was tryin' to do you a favor."

"A favor? By fucking up my life?"

He made a _pfft_ sound with his mouth _._ "What life? You call this a life?" Shane asked, gesturing to the house. "I have no fucking idea why you would actually choose this."

Shane would never understand how Daryl could turn his back on something he helped build. Shane couldn't understand why he would choose to work a crappy job over what they used to do. A single run could bring in thousands of dollars with the majority of it going back to the club. The money no longer appealed to Daryl. His loyalty no longer belonged to the club, or Shane, or even Merle.

"Because this is what _I_ want. Who the fuck do you think you are to mess that up?"

"You turned your back on the club and me. Turned your back on Merle. If you'd open your eyes you'd see that. You'd see who Beth really is and that she's just using you."

Shane had brought Daryl into the club and Daryl brought in Merle. It didn't take much corrosion for Daryl to join. When he began dealing for them, Merle was twenty-three and like Daryl, he'd been floating aimlessly through life and was all too happy to band together with his baby brother.

They started out small, running drugs or weapons. Anything Negan told them to do, they did. Daryl quickly made a name for himself. He was quiet and Negan knew he wouldn't talk because he hardly ever said more than what was necessary. Though quiet, he was tough, never intimidated by whatever ruffians they were dealing with. He did his job well. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had a purpose, like he belonged.

They quickly rose the ranks of the club, and Negan became like a father figure of sorts to Daryl and Daryl became his right-hand man. He and Merle were efficient and reliable - up until Merle got busted. By then though, they were more concerned with getting high than selling for the club.

Daryl took a step towards Shane, he was smart enough to back up. "I didn't turn my back on no one," he growled, guilt settling in his gut.

He blamed himself that Merle got arrested. He was covering for Daryl because after Beth left he couldn't be bothered to give a shit about anything. Merle, high as a kite himself, sold to an undercover cop. As far as Daryl was concerned if he'd never joined the club Merle wouldn't be where he is today. The guilt was something he'd never been able to shake.

"So you're gonna' turn your back on the club, just like that huh?" Shane asked as though he needed clarification.

"Yep." Simple as that.

Guilt notwithstanding, it felt good to tell Shane off. Word would get back to Negan. Negan wouldn't be happy but he wasn't the type to go chasing after people begging them to come back into the fold. He'd wash his hands of Daryl, just like he'd already done with Merle. It would be the final break from his past that Daryl needed. He needed it for himself as much as for Bille and Beth.

"Alright, I get it," Shane sneered. "No one messes with your woman. What the hell ever. But remember Beth did you wrong. She fucked you over. She took off on you."

"You best watch your mouth, sunshine. Say one more word about Beth..."

"Throwing a lifetime friendship away for some chick that ain't even your old lady?" Shane questioned. "I'm just looking out for you because your own brother can't."

"Don't," Daryl warned. "I don't need you looking out for me. You don't know shit 'bout me or Beth. You gotta' go," Daryl told him. "Get your pack and leave. Don't come back."

When Shane only stared at him, Daryl swooped down to pick up his pack that was on the floor next to the couch and shoved it into Shane's arms. Shane practically tripped over his feet but went to the door as he was told.

Daryl watched him mount his Harley and take off down the road, dust trailing behind him, feeling a strange subset of emotions. It was true, at one time he thought of Shane as a brother. He no longer felt that bond with him. Shane, along with his old life, felt a million miles away. A drug induced delusion. His life with Beth, however, felt fresh and unmistakably real.

* * *

By the time Daryl got to the coffee shop, his temper had waned. He hated what Shane did and blamed himself. He shouldn't have let him back into his life. Should have sent him packing the first night he showed up at his house.

The barista, used to Daryl coming in to see Beth pointed behind her, telling him Beth was in her office. In the office, her chair was empty and the door leading to the alleyway behind the shop was open.

The small road was shadowed by the surrounding buildings and the temperature was much cooler. He looked down one way, Beth's Tahoe parked in its usual spot. Down the other end, where the road dead-ended, Beth was throwing a trash bag up into the dumpster.

He watched as she swiftly hefted the bag up into the bin. Her shirt lifting to show an inch of smooth skinned mid drift. Her hips swaying with the motion.

When she turned around, whipping her hands on her apron, her brow furrowed in deep thought and she chewed her bottom lip, something she'd always done when she was nervous.

"You're gonna chew that raw," he said, bringing her attention to him. She startled, and stopped momentarily, releasing her lip. It glistened pink. He had to force himself to focus on her eyes, not her lips. He fought the urge to wrap her in his arms. Tell her he was sorry about Shane and that he'd never bother her again.

But he knew her. Knew she'd push him away and claim she could take care of herself, which she rightfully could. Knowing that didn't stop his urge to protect her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, fiddling with the strings of her apron.

Beth didn't like conflict and dodged it whenever possible. It was probably why she took off. It was easier than having yet another fight with him. Well, that's just too damn bad. He wasn't going to let things go by the wayside. He wasn't going to let _her_ go.

"You're avoiding me," he spoke casually, leaning against the door frame of her office, showing no hint of his altercation with Shane.

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "No, I'm not. Why would I be avoiding you?"

"Beth," he said. "Don't bullshit me. Haven't seen you and Billie in days." No more beating around the bush, he was going to say what he felt.

Beth finally looked up at him. She wondered vaguely how he could look so good just leaning against the door. T-shirt. Worn jeans that fit him just right. He wore the vest with those damn angel wings on the back, an ever-present reminder of his past.

"You haven't called or texted me. Why's that?"

"You haven't texted me in two days," she retorted, cringing. She'd been keeping track of his texts and calls as well his lack thereof in the past couple of days.

"You never responded so I thought I'd give you some time."

She said nothing in response.

Daryl took a breath, itching for a cigarette. Looked around noting that it hadn't changed much - just an alleyway surrounded by buildings. "Remember how we used to make out back here when you were on your break?"

Beth's eyes rounded before she had a chance to contain her shock that he'd brought that up. "We made out a lot if I recall."

Yes, she remembered. How could she forget? They did a lot more than make out. Once they started going out, they didn't waste much time. Hot for each other anytime, just about anywhere. His lips. His calloused roughened hands turning her mind to mush. The thing was he didn't have to touch her, just a look of his steel-blue eyes would make her weak.

He took a step closer, towering over her. He in his boots, she in a pair of bright blue Converse. He surprised her when he brushed a hair off her cheek, rubbing the flushed skin with his thumb. "Don't shut me out, Beth."

"I'm not." She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin jutted out in a stubborn pout.

"Damn it," he mumbled backing up. "This how it's gonna be?" He asked rhetorically. He took another deep breath. Losing his temper wasn't going to help anything. "You gotta' talk to me."

"You want to talk? Okay, what about Shane?" She blurted.

"Shane's gone, left town about a half-hour ago."

She exhaled a breath, she wasn't expecting that. "What happens when he comes back?"

"He won't."

"What you do with your life is your business," she began unsure where she was heading. "I can't tell you what to do or who you can hang out with but if I have to be the bad guy, I will."

She wanted him to be here because he _wanted_ to be here. Not because she browbeat him into staying, forcing him to be a part of Billie's life.

"I said it before, but this will be the last time I'll say it again, if you're still involved with your old life you can't be in Billie's life." Her concern was Billie. There was no shame in that.

"I know this."

His words annoyed her. They so easily slipped out of his mouth, like it was that easy. She debated telling Daryl about her encounter with Shane. It felt too much like tattle-telling so she decided to keep it to herself.

"This isn't about Shane," though it sort of was. "I worry about the impact Shane or any of the people from your past has on your life. _Your_ life affects Billie's life."

Feeling like she was a tape set on repeat, she tried to sidestep him but he caught her by the elbow, lightly pushing her against the brick wall so she couldn't escape him. Staring at her so intently it made her weak just like the old days.

"You think I don't know that?" He asked, equally perturbed. It was clear she didn't trust him. "I'm trying. I sold my bike, work a nine to five. Hell, I even bought groceries this week. Groceries with kid food. I ain't saying all this to make you feel bad or to hold it over your head, but I don't know what else I can do to prove it to you."

Shane's words pounded in her mind. No one worked at the center because they wanted to. They worked there because there were no other appealing options. How long could the center really hold him? It'd only be a matter of time before he grew tired of working so hard for so little. Peddling pills was easier, more lucrative work. Right?

"You said you wanted to get to know Billie, but I don't want to use her to make you do the right thing."

She wasn't this type of person, the type that made the man in her life behave a certain way. She was hating herself more and more by the second. Shane sent her into a state of panic, she was overreacting but couldn't stop herself. "Maybe you should just leave now before you become too attached to Billie," she said, her voice sad and quiet. She was was worried about Billie, but her own heart was already hanging on by a thread.

He took a step back like she'd slapped him. "Leave? What the hell? I _want_ to be here. I want to be in Billie's life!"

Shane had implied Daryl's still selling. She knew not to trust Shane, but, what if. Those damn what-ifs. Will they ever stop? "Billie is already becoming attached to you and what happens if you decide you're bored and decide small town life isn't for you? What then?"

Daryl watched as Beth became more unhinged with every word, each one was like a kick to the stomach.

"Damn it. I'm trying here. Why are you pushing me away?"

The words were out before she realized it. "Because I can't get my heart broken again."


	16. Scattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I don't really have an excuse for my absence. Just the usual not being able to focus and second-guessing my writing. But I am sorry to leave you all hanging. Hope you like this little chapter. Something is better than nothing (I hope). Thanks for reading!

When they left town it took all Annette had to warn her daughter not to go. Beth could read it in her mother's eyes. Annette kept it inside, telling Beth that she would always be there if she ever wanted to come back instead. For that Beth was appreciative, even more so now looking at it from a mother's perspective. It must have been incredibly hard to watch her youngest child jump on the back of a Harley and take off down the road not knowing when or if she'd return.

Maggie, to the opposite, didn't even say bye. She'd spoken her peace, peace being a relative term, the night before, telling Beth she was fucking up her life. She rightfully predicted she'd be back with nothing to show for her time gone except for a broken heart and a baby in her belly. Knowing Maggie had predicted exactly what happened made it all the more difficult to come home.

Shawn wasn't there to see her off either. Not because he was angry, he was just busy doing something else.

They were a family scattered in the wind, Beth was only following suit. Making it easier for everyone involved, following her own path. Making her own way.

Beth thanked Annette, sure she'd never _need_ to come back. They'd visit for holidays or whatever, though they never did the years they were gone.

So they took off on that hot September afternoon on Daryl's bike. She packed her old high school backpack with very few belongings; a few changes of clothing, a coat, a couple of her favorite books, her journal. Daryl took even less.

That first night they slept under the stars, at an abandoned rest stop. Behind the building was a plot of trees, parking in the shadows, no one knew they were there. Sharing one dinky sleeping bag that Daryl stowed away in the saddlebag.

Blinded by love, it was everything her young heart had wanted. Just her and Daryl alone. Making love. The chill of the night air on her bare skin, Daryl buried deep inside her. She remembered feeling like the only ones in the world. And in that little world, they didn't need anyone but each other.

Daryl was always cautious with her. Almost too cautious and, sometimes, she had to take charge, show him what she needed. She shuffled until she was on top, flinging the flap of the sleeping bag off her shoulders. Bare skin glowing with the moon shining behind her, she rode him hard. Fast. Like there was no past and no future.

With him, she could be reckless. WIth him, she wasn't little Bethy Greene.

"Are we crazy?" Daryl had asked as they were dozing off, her head resting on his shoulder. His arms protectively surrounding her.

"What?" She asked sleepily. Riding for hours on a motorcycle was nothing like riding in a car. The wind wore at you, the constant awareness, it drained her.

"Are we crazy for taking off? I mean, are you sure 'bout this?" He asked. "Probably should have asked that before we left."

"Well, we are miles from home so I guess I better be sure." She smiled up at him, angled her head up, lightly kissing him. "And yes, we are crazy," she verified, whispering in the darkness. "But the good kind a' crazy."

The first few weeks were a repeat of that first day and night. Traveling for miles. No place to go, not a worry in the world. Crashing wherever they found a place. Occasionally they'd stay at a campground so they could shower, cook a decent meal over a fire or they'd fork over the money for a hotel if the weather got really bad.

Just as what little savings they had left dwindled down, they landed in a city in northern Georgia. Beth found work and Daryl did what he did. They'd spent a few precious months there in that run-down apartment together before Daryl grew restless and they moved on, skipping town one night. At first, the instability didn't bother her. Daryl would always take care of her, and she would take care of him.

They moved around a few times before Merle joined them and some of the enchantment faded. Whereas before it was just Beth and Daryl, everything now included Merle.

They, Beth, Daryl, and Merle eventually ended up in another city. And then a small town. Then another town. The next stop always promised untainted hope. Excitement. Maybe this was the place they could settle down?

* * *

"Because I can't get my heart broken again."

His eyes shifted to something other than anger. Hurt. Pain. Betrayal? "Fuck," he whispered, looking away.

"When I left it wasn't because I stopped loving you," she said wondering how he did not know this.

"Whoa, what?" He asked.

"I woulda' followed you to the grave before I got pregnant. I didn't go from loving you one day and not the next." Annoyingly, tears streamed down her face, how she hated them.

She hadn't meant to say so much. This wasn't about her or her broken heart. For years she'd been able to keep her devastation inside, rarely showing how badly leaving Daryl hurt her. She's tried her hardest to be present for Billie's sake. To not be an overly emotional basket case over lost love. But then Daryl comes back and within a few months here she is, crying in the alleyway at work being anything but _in control_.

"What I feel about you doesn't matter. It _can't_ matter."

"How can it not matter?" He wondered aloud. It mattered to him.

Ignoring his question she went on. "I had to give this a chance, no matter how I felt. For Billie's sake. I thought once you got to know her you'd see what an amazing little girl she is and fall in love with her and want to be her daddy. Then Shane shows up and messes everything up. He's a reminder of the way we used to live. And how precarious and dangerous it actually was."

"Yeah, but that ain't the life you're livin' today, is it? It's not the life I'm tryin' to live anymore. I do want to be in Billie's life. In both your lives. How many times do I havta say it? The second I knew she existed there was no question in my mind. I want to help take care of her. Shane ain't shit to me, ya' understand me?"

He didn't think it was possible. He knew theoretically parents were supposed to love their children though he never experienced firsthand from his own parents. It was questionable if his parents ever felt a fraction of what he feels for Billie.

Beth had felt the same way. The second she knew Billie existed, just a tiny bean in her belly, she knew she loved her and wanted to be her Mama more than anything she'd ever wanted in her life. As her belly grew so did her love and when she had an ultrasound, the little squished blur on the screen made it even more real.

She had prepared herself to be a mother and a father to Billie. Even if Daryl somehow found out they had a daughter she didn't think he'd rush into daddy mode.

Yet, here he was fighting for Billie. Fighting for his right to be her father. He didn't take off with Shane. Didn't give up when Beth shut him out. He confronted her, wanting to figure it out together. And he said he loved Billie. _He loved their little girl._

With sudden optimism stirring in her heart she was able to shove the anger and uncertainty away. With only a second's hesitation, she flung her arms around his neck. He probably thought she was insane but she didn't care.

He stood frozen for a moment. Afraid to move, afraid to breathe. Afraid the slightest reverberation might send them backsliding. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lowering his face to her neck until his lips were hovering just above her skin.

"This mean you ain't mad anymore?" He questioned.

"I wasn't mad. Just scared, I guess." Scared still.

"Beth," he said gruffly, meaning to ask her what she meant. Did she still love him? Does this change everything?

Did he really want to know?

"I am sorry for the way I treated you. Sorry you got caught up in the chaos. You gotta trust me when I say I'm here for good no matter who might show up from my past. No matter if I have to work shoveling cow shit. I'll happily do it to provide for Billie. I am here for both of you no matter what. Ya' understand?"

His eyes drifted down to her lips then quickly back to her eyes. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his feelings for her. But damn it, standing here together like they had so many times in the past, it felt right. Looking up at him, her eyes searched his for something. Hell if he knew what.

Reluctantly, he let her go. This new Daryl he's trying to be doesn't make moves on another man's girl.

* * *

Daryl wished he could have seen Billie that day, but Beth didn't bring it up and he didn't want to scare her off. He could wait. What was one more day? A few more hours really, if you don't include the hours he'd be asleep or working. Billie was his little girl and he didn't plan on going very many days in a row again without seeing her again. Beth seemed to understand that.

There was still plenty to be figured out. Beth admitted she still had feelings for him. Not in an _I love you and have to be with you_ kind of way. In a matter-of-fact way, as though he should have known. He had no idea what to do with that information. Should he act on it? Wait for her to make a move? And what about Glenn?

He was sitting on the porch pondering these things and trying to decide if he was hungry enough to scrounge up something for dinner when he was surprised to see Beth's dusty Tahoe roll up his driveway. He stood, excitement mixing with trepidation. With the way the day had been going, he couldn't help but wonder if something else happened. He wondered if Shane hadn't left town like he'd told him to do.

His apprehension faded when he saw Beth's smile through the windshield, giving a little wave. He rounded the car and opened the door for her before she had the chance.

"Hey," she said, smiling, stepping down out of the vehicle. "I hope it's okay that we stop by. Not much going on at home tonight. Mama's got her book club and Maggie isn't home. And I think Shawn's got a girlfriend, but he hasn't brought it up to us yet." Beth realized she was rambling. "And, well, Billie wanted to see ya'."

"She did, did she?" Daryl questioned, unable to hide the grin.

"Yeah, she told me so," Beth teased. "She missed you."

"Well, I missed her," he answered honestly.

He stood there awkwardly for a moment then before he had a chance to think better of it, he took a step closer, running a hand over her shoulder. He needed that contact. The simple brush of a hand over fabric. "We're okay, right? After what happened today. We're okay?"

At the coffee house, just as things were getting interesting, they were cut short by the barista needing change for the register. They parted quickly and he left saying he'd call her. The air between them had felt lighter like they'd worked through whatever rift Shane caused, but he wanted to be sure she wasn't here to say good-bye one last time. The way things tended to go in his life, he wouldn't be surprised. Devastated, not surprised.

Beth nodded, "Yeah, we're okay."

He let out a sigh of relief and after a beat, he stepped away though he didn't want to. He shifted to the back door and opened it to find Billie strapped in her car seat holding both her beloved elephant and the giraffe he got her. When she saw him, she squealed and said "Hi," letting the word drag out into a _Hiiiiii_. She clapped her hands and then reached for Daryl.

He leaned in and unbuckled her, taking her into his arms. She clung to his neck, hugging him. It may have only been a few days, he had missed her. When she pulled away he flung her up into the air while she laughed a deep belly laugh.

"What's up, baby girl? Your Mama says you wanted ta' come for a visit?"

Beth stood back and watched as he tossed Billie up in the air, gaining a few feet of air space. It didn't make her uneasy as she thought it might. Seeing Billie's smile, hearing her laugh made it all okay. How easily children trust. Billie knew her father would never drop her. She was safe in Daryl's hands.

Soon Billie wiggled down and was on to the next thing, always exploring. Beth looked toward the house, memories flooding back. They had spent most of their time in Daryl's bed, occasionally hanging out with Merle and whoever else was there. They'd had a few monumental parties there as well.

"Wow, I haven't been here since, well, since the last time I was here with you. It looks pretty much the same."

"Yep, it is pretty much the same," Daryl chuckled. "'Cept for the deck. Finally fixed that."

True enough. It was rebuilt with new lumber. Could still smell the fresh wood. "Want to come in?" She knew where he lived, had spent plenty of time there in the past, there was no reason for him to be reluctant.

"Sure," she responded happily, picking Billie up and following Daryl inside.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the interior of the house, she didn't miss Daryl moving a pistol in its holster from the small kitchen table to the top of the fridge. It wasn't a secret that he carried when they were together, usually in a holster at his back. At the time he didn't have the safest of occupations. She didn't ask about it, not today. Not after what she'd put him through already. She wanted nothing more than things to remain on an even keel for the indiscernible future.

"Somedays I think of just tearing it down," he admitted, turning back to her.

"Oh, don't do that. It's a cute house." True enough, she could see its potential.

He looked at her, "It's okay, you don't gotta' be nice."

Beth laughed. "I'm serious. It's got good bones." She really had no idea what that meant. It was something she'd heard Shawn and Glenn say when talking about the old bunkhouse Glenn and Maggie were planning on fixing up.

"Guess I could add on if need be," he said, having no idea where that came from. Who would he be adding on for?

There were two small bedrooms. Maybe, someday if Beth ever allowed it, Billie could spend the night. He'd already had his mind made up she would have the second bedroom, whether Beth allowed her to stay over or not. He could paint it a cheery color. Pick up some toys. Get a crib for her. Or was she old enough for a bed? He wasn't sure and didn't want to ask. Didn't want to appear to be clueless as to what type of bed his daughter was old enough to sleep in.

"It was big enough for you and Merle and your parents," Beth pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Daryl spent most of his time growing up away from the house, out in the woods. His dad was drunk more than he wasn't. His mom was always working and when she wasn't she was sleeping, passed out with the help of off-brand valium her doctor prescribed to her. Merle was perpetually pissed off and quickly following in their old man's footsteps. Then his parents died within a year of each other. It saddened him to think how much easier it was to breathe once they were gone. The constant tension between his parents, between Merle and their dad, between Daryl and Merle had been palpable. After their parents died, he and Merle became closer, the tension quickly fading away.

Every time he thought of his parents or Merle it was like a punch to the gut. So he focused on Billie, realizing he didn't have any toys. "Shit, I don't got anything for her to play with."

"Oh that's fine," Beth said, reaching into her giant bag and pulling out a baggie of crayons and a small notepad as well as two small dolls with snarled hair.

"Come prepared?" He joked.

"You gotta' when you have a toddler."

"Hold up, I think I got something," he said, disappearing into the room he and Mere had shared growing up. Beth could hear him shuffling around, dropping something, swearing, and then returning with a box of Lincoln Logs.

"I used to love these. Is it okay that she play with them? They're a little dusty probably," he said blowing dust off the lid, removing it.

"Yes! They're perfect."

"Hey, Billie," Daryl said, turning the box upside down and dumping the logs out.

Instantly enthralled, Billie went to examine the pile of miniature logs. Daryl sat on the floor and Billie sat in his lap, comfortable with him as if she'd always done it. He began showing her how to put them together. Surprisingly she watched curiously, patiently, with her hands folded in her lap instead of just treating into it with toddler abandon. Beth sat on the couch and watched. Her tiny world that she almost let Shane destroy. How quickly things can come crashing down if you let them. Never again would she allow that to happen.

Soon Daryl and Billie had built a tower almost as tall as Billie herself. "Mama wook!" She shouted, _Mama look_.

"Wow, that's a great tower!" She took her phone out and snapped a picture of Billie, Daryl and the log tower.

"Alright girl, you ready?" Daryl asked Billie. She nodded seeming to know what he meant. Beth had no idea until he backed up and said, "Ready, set… go!" And Billie swung her arms, knocking the tower down with the enthusiasm only a toddler can possess.

This went on a few more times, Daryl and Billie would build a tower and Billie would knock it down. When she grew tired of that, Daryl built a house for her dolls and left her to play on her own, going between her stuffed elephant and giraffe and the toys Beth procured from her bag and the Lincoln Logs. He sat next to Beth on the sofa.

"I was gonna throw some hot dogs on the grill if y'all wanna stay for dinner," Daryl suggested. The tips of his ears poking through his shaggy hair turned endearingly pink, sending Beth a bashful look.

There was a time when there wasn't anything between them, there was nothing he couldn't ask her. They freely shared everything. It was magical for a while.

Now he fumbled asking Beth if they wanted to stay for dinner. It hurt, feeling that gap between them.

Well, there was only one way to bridge that gap. "Sure! We love hot dogs," she said a little too eagerly.


	17. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you all are still interested in this. I was a little worried after my hiatus.  
> This chapter is very fluff. Hope no one minds. The next chapter should be a little more exciting.  
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment.

"What?" Beth asked when Daryl only stared at her, the right side of his mouth lifting into a crooked grin.

"Nothin'. Just ain't never seen anyone so excited about hotdogs before"

Beth shoved at his arm. "Always teasin' me."

She sent a group text to her mother and Maggie saying she and Billie wouldn't be home for a few hours. Sometimes Annette's book club ran late, depending on how much wine was consumed, sometimes though, she was home early. Beth didn't want her to worry. Annette answered a few minutes later with an "Okay, love you." No questions asked.

Maggie on the other hand sent her multiple messages. One with a surprised face emoji and then one that questioned, " _Where are you? You're at Daryl's aren't you?"_ And " _When will you be back? You're not staying the night there are you?"_

Beth put the phone on silent and shoved it down into her bag. Maggie's response to Daryl coming back to town was getting old. Most of the time Beth would ignore her, but her nagging was getting out of hand. She couldn't just keep her thoughts to herself, always had something snide or rude to say.

Surely Maggie didn't expect Beth to live the life of a virginal spinster forever, did she? Which, to be honest, was how she'd been living these past years since coming home. She'd been so focused on Billie she didn't think much about her own needs. She thought she could do life alone. As long as Billie was happy that's all that mattered. Now though, there was Daryl. She tried to ignore the shallow longing that burned in her chest for him and was finding it more and more difficult.

Daryl stood at the grill cooking the hot dogs. Billie played in the grass and Beth sat on the top step of the deck, watching the sun as it set slowly behind the line of trees bordering the property. Here on this seemingly perfect night, the setting sun was warm on her skin, the slight breeze blew pleasantly on her neck. She could almost let go, almost let the muscles in her jaw unwind, allow her rigid shoulders to relax, let Billie play without hovering.

Spending time with Daryl solidified her new determination to not let Shane or Maggie or anything else come between them. If there was a problem, she'd go to Daryl first about it. No more hiding away because she didn't like confrontation or because she was scared.

. . .

Beth was impressed when Daryl cut Billie's hot dog into fourths, not halves, without even asking him to. He placed a pile of Veggie Straws next to the hot dog along with some ketchup on a paper plate. From the refrigerator he retrieved a small cup of applesauce, removing the foil lid with one hand. He did all this with Billie on his hip like he'd been doing it forever.

"All's I got is water and soda," he told Beth with a hint of regret in his voice.

"Water is just fine," she reassured. Billie hadn't had soda yet either unless Glenn or Shawn slipped her some when she wasn't around which was high in probability. She retrieved a sippy cup from her bag and filled it with water.

Daryl smiled at her. She knew what he was thinking; _always prepared_.

"Sorry I don't have anything better than this," he said as he sat at the table with Billie in his lap.

"This is just fine," she said as she slid into a chair next to them with her own plate. "Veggie Straws?" She questioned, hiding her smile with a bite of a hot dog.

"Well yeah, ya' know just for moments like these."

"Uh huh," Beth said around a mouthful of food. "You have a lot of toddlers visiting you?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and chuckled, snatching one from his own plate and popping it in his mouth. "They're pretty tasty," he crunched, making Beth laugh.

It was so simple, just two people and their child having dinner like most parents probably do every day. It was new to them yet it felt entirely right.

Billie finished all her hot dog and most of her Veggie Straws, only taking a couple of bites from her applesauce, then scooted down. Beth helped Daryl pick up the kitchen before Billie was asking to be picked up.

She quickly became sleepy. They should go, it was nearing her bedtime. Instead of leaving, they moved from the table to the living room and Billie curled up on Beth's lap on the sofa. Beth gave her her blankie to snuggle with, tet another item she retrieved from her bag.

Daryl disappeared down the hallway, quickly returning with a small well-worn blanket, smelling of laundry soap, covering Billie with it. Beth was touched. She didn't even have to ask, he just saw a need and filled it.

She couldn't say she was disappointed when he sat next to them on the couch instead of the other chair across the room. His body turned slightly toward them, an arm casually positioned on the back of the couch, brushing her shoulder.

"This evening turned out better than I thought it'd be."

"Yeah," she smiled, absently rubbing her hand over Billie's soft hair. She thought she'd say more but she was suddenly tongue-tied being so close to him.

"You don't gotta be home?" He asked, chewing on a thumbnail. "I mean, I don't want ya' to go," he fumbled. "I'm just curious where everyone thinks ya' are."

He looked nervous. Did _she_ make him nervous? The better question was why did his nervousness make the butterflies in her belly dance?

"Na'. We don't always have dinner together. We all have different schedules and the farm is a twenty-four-seven operation. Mama usually makes dinner, whoever is around - usually me - helps. Everyone eats when we can. I try to get Billie's dinner at about five. Then bath at about 6:30, then bed about 7:30."

She noticed Daryl looking at her strangely. Not bad, just with a glint of amusement in his eyes. She smiled timidly and asked, "What?"

"Just you. You're so structured. Organized."

"Well, you kind of have to be when you have a toddler. Schedules are important for a child."

"I don't doubt it," and he definitely didn't doubt Beth. "I jus' remember the girl that would stay up all night partying."

"Aw come on," she said, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. "I didn't party _that_ much."

Daryl laughed, an actual laugh. "Girl, you could drink me under the table any day."

"Now, that's just an outright lie, Daryl Dixon!" Still, she couldn't help but laugh.

Had she really been that bad? She remembered having a good time especially when she and Daryl first got together. It had only been a year or so since her father's death and she was doing her best to ignore the turmoil that losing him caused. Getting wasted was a good way to forget everything.

Billie sleepily moved from Beth's lap and settled onto Daryl's. He wrapped the blanket around her and snuggled her closer. She easily rested her head in the crook of his arm.

"Remember the first time you got drunk on shine?" Daryl asked quietly, watching as Billie's eyes grew heavier and heavier until they finally closed.

"Ugh, don't remind me." Beth made a face, placing a hand to her head as though she could still remember the headache she had for days after. "I don't really remember much past the first cup."

"Yeah, that was a fun night," Daryl commented, smiling slightly, reminiscing.

Beth barked out a laugh. "Fun for who? I was sick for days."

"I took care of ya', didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." Beth foggily remembered him holding her even when she was sick and hungover. He made sure she drank plenty of water, made sure she took aspirin. Fixed her mashed potatoes because it was the only thing that sounded good. He never left her side.

Looking down at Billie, he softly asked, "Ya' miss it? Miss your old life?" He was afraid she'd say yes. It was his fault she had to grow up so fast. He hadn't been there to help her carry the weight and responsibility of a child.

She rolled a shoulder. "There were lots of good times. But when things were bad, they were _really_ bad. Remember when Merle got dope sick? Remember that one time we got evicted and were homeless in the middle of winter. Or that one time we were held at gunpoint by some tweaker tripping on acid? He thought we were aliens or something."

Daryl chuckled. He could laugh about that now. At the time it wasn't so funny.

"And we fought a lot towards the end," she recalled. "We had fun, hangovers and fighting notwithstanding, but I wouldn't trade right now for anything, especially now that you're here," she added shyly, testing the waters. She wanted him to know she was happy he was in their life but wasn't sure how to say it.

"My best years were with you," Daryl said quietly. He didn't seem to remember the fighting like she did. "Weird how someone's best times can be someone else's worst times."

"Oh, Daryl, they weren't my worst times," she was quick to explain. "Things just got complicated."

Drugs, tweakers, fighting, and unplanned pregnancy equals complicated.

"We have more good times to come, you'll see."

She said it with so much confidence Daryl almost believed her. He _wanted_ to believe her. But he always seemed to put a kink in things even before they got going.

"But what about," he stalled. She looked at him expectantly. "What 'bout Maggie?"

He couldn't bring himself to bring up Glenn. If he found out their relationship was serious, that would end all hope of a chance for him and Beth. "She hates me. Don't want to cause trouble with you and your sister."

"Don't worry about her. She has no say in any of this, much to her disappointment."

He nodded. _Let it go,_ he told himself _._ The evening had gone so well, he didn't want to mess it up.

More quiet conversation, memories, and companionable silence, and Beth realized it had gotten quite late. Much later than she'd stayed out in years.

"I should go. Gotta work in the morning," she finally said and stood. She took Billie from Daryl and shifted her to her shoulder, standing easily with the weight of the sleeping child, gathering her things with her free hand.

He stood with her, grabbed her bag off the floor. "Why you gotta work so early?" I mean couldn't ya' work later in the day?" He questioned before thinking better of it. Billie looked so adorable sleeping, mouth slightly open, one little hand under her cheek, her other arm curled around the giraffe, he was sure he'd never be able to wake her in the mornings. But who was he to question her? Their schedule has worked well for them apparently.

"I could. I just like to be at the shop for the morning rush. Then I can be off early in the afternoon. Billie's always been an early riser, she doesn't seem to mind. Really, aren't all toddlers early risers?" She laughed lightly.

He blurted, "I'm sorry I ain't been around to help."

He frowned. What was this surge of guilt he constantly felt and would it ever go away? It was like he wasn't himself. He was this new person that felt guilt and apologized when no one asked him to.

"Dary," Beth said a touch of irritation to her voice. "You don't haveta' keep apologizing."

"It's just..."

"I'm serious," she interrupted. "Stop saying you're sorry. We both messed up. You're here, I'm here, that's what matters. We can make this work. Right?"

How can she just forgive him for what he did, how he treated her? He didn't blame her for leaving. It broke his heart, but he understood. Getting to know Billie, he'd do anything for her. Anything to protect her including getting her out of a bad situation just like Beth had.

Raising a hand, he cupped Beth's face, trailing her jaw. "Why you bein' so good to me?"

She didn't know what to say, probably couldn't hear her own voice over her heartbeat anyway. They stood like that for a few more agonizing seconds before Daryl spoke again.

"You probably better go." He dropped his hand, stepped away from her.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked, confused by his sudden shift of mood. He wasn't mad or upset. Something in him changed swiftly and she felt it.

"No. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't think I can trust myself around you right now." His voice a low grumble of heat and gravel.

He always wanted her. Even way back when he was just a customer coming into the coffee shop. Now, there was something different in the way he wanted her. Organized and structured, holding their child, balancing her giant bag and Billie's toys. A pull, so strong and intense made him _yearn_ for her. He didn't think it was possible but he fell a little deeper

"Well, I trust you," she said quietly, breathless.

* * *

_It was raining and cold when Beth finally made it home. Two straight days on a Greyhound bus left her disheveled. Tired with an aching back. She wanted a shower and a sixteen-hour nap._

_Shivering, more from nerves than the weather, the only person she could think to call was Shawn. He'd be the only one that would just show up for her with no questions. She didn't have any friends anymore, she had abandoned them all. She could call Maggie. She would show up but there'd be lots of questions and lecturing. Annette would have been there in a second, but Beth didn't want to make her get out. It was late and dark, the roads were slick._

_So taking refuge from the rain in the small bus station she called Shawn. Just as she predicted he was there within fifteen minutes. Steadfast and reliable in his beat-up pickup truck. He wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug, mumbling "It's good to see ya' sis." Then picked up her backpack and led her to the truck. He didn't ask where she'd been or what she'd been thinking. Didn't tell her she looked like shit, which she was sure she did. He just drove her home._

_Seeing the farm again was like a salve for her wearied soul. Warm light shone through the windows. The porch light, burned bright, waiting for her like it had never been shut off during her absence. It was all she could do to keep the tears at bay._

_Shawn entered first, tossing Beth's bag into the corner, shaking the rain off his hat. Beth stalled in the entryway, feeling like a guest in the home she grew up in._

" _Ma'?" He yelled through the house. "Ya' home?" He asked. "I got something I wanna' show you," he said, sending Beth a kind smile that warmed her cold belly._

" _What is it, Shawn? I'm trying to fix us some dinner," Annette chided coming out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She stopped mid-stride and time stood still. The towel fell slowly, weightlessly, to the floor._

" _Beth?" She asked, looking from Shawn to Beth, as though she didn't believe her own eyes._

" _Hey, Mama," she said not knowing what to say._ I'm sorry I've been gone so long. Sorry I hurt you. I'm back now, though and pregnant _\- didn't seem quite adequate._

" _My baby," she exclaimed loudly. Then in a whisper, "My baby." Time sped back up and Annette was suddenly standing in front of Beth, taking her face in her hands._

" _I hope it's okay I came back without calling first," Beth said weakly. The world on her shoulders weighed her down. . She wasn't sure how she was still able to stand. She hadn't eaten since before she left except for a small pack of trail mix. A kind elderly woman took pity on her and insisted she take a couple of bottles of water from the mini cooler she carried._

_It wasn't right. She needed to keep better care of herself now. It was no longer about her. This is a theme that would follow her from here on out._

_Annette waved her words away. "This will always be your home." She smiled brightly. "Shawn, look! Our girl is home!" She laughed then wrapped her in her arms, guiding her to the kitchen._

" _You must be dead tired, and hungry. I'll fix ya' something good to eat. Something that'll stick with ya'. Then you can…" she went on but none of it really penetrated Beth's brain. She was too tired. Too relieved to be home._

_She didn't allow herself to think of Daryl and what he might be doing or thinking. He might not even know she was gone yet. He probably wouldn't really care. His life would be easier without her. Still, at the mere thought of him, her throat burned and her chest tightened with anguish._

_Guilt pinpricked her empty stomach. She had her family, at least. He only had Merle. So she shoved the thought of him away and focused on the meal Annette put in front of her. Then she let her mother guide her into the bathroom, turning on the water for her and running a bath of hot, steaming water. Annette then retrieved something warm to wear from her closet and left her to soak._

_When Beth resurfaced an hour later, there was Annette again guiding her into her bed of clean sheets and the quilt she'd had since she was ten, tucking her in like she was a child. Years ago, before she left, her fussing would have annoyed Beth. Today she embraced it. She needed it. Making decisions, even little ones like what to eat pr when to shower would be too much at that moment._

_All night through, she fought the urge to trudge back to the bus station and follow the path she had taken, this time in reverse back to Daryl. She slept fitfully with her phone in her hand hoping he would call._

_For the following days every time she heard a car approaching the house, she would still, hold her breath, watching, wishing it was Daryl. She wanted so badly for him to come to her. Plead his love, express how much he wanted their baby once he found out she existed._

_Even if he wanted to why would he? She specifically requested he stay away._

_But what good did wishing do? Wishes were nothing more than the fanciful thinking of a child and she was no longer a child. She was going to be a mother._

* * *

Maggie was waiting for Beth when she walked into the house with sleeping Billie in her arms. The high she felt from the evening with Daryl dimmed at the sight of her sister's pinched disapproving face.

She nodded her greeting then went straight upstairs to put Billie in bed, hoping to dodge Maggie's lecture for the night but she heard her footsteps going up the stairs following her. Beth was switching out Billie's clothes for her pajamas when her shadow darkened the door to Billie's room.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Beth asked without turning around, beating her to the punch. She fasted the buttons on Billie's sleeper, lifted her off the changing table and put her into her crib, tucking her elephant and giraffe in with her.

"I… I don't hate him," Maggie stammered. She wasn't expecting Beth to be so forthcoming. She avoided arguments and Maggie always used that to her advantage. She had always been outspoken, Beth had always been kind.

Beth brushed Billie's hair out of her face before turning to face Maggie, leaning against the railing of the crib. "Coulda' fooled me."

"How do you expect me to feel about him? He took off with you and when you came back, you were…"

"Pregnant," she interrupted Maggie before she could go on with her usual spiel of how Daryl screwed up her life. "It takes two, ya' know? It makes no sense to be mad at him and not me. He's not solely to blame."

"He took advantage and he just left you to deal with the fallout."

"Took advantage of what? I was an adult, over eighteen, out of high school. At what age does my life become my own? Even now you're trying to control me and what I do."

"You were young and impressionable. You had so much potential and you just pissed it all away. Someone's gotta' look out for you and Billie now."

"Having Billie pissed my potential away?" She asked, rightfully indignant.

Maggie tried to speak but Beth wasn't interested. She walked past her and went down the hall into her bedroom.

"Beth," Maggie said quietly following." Come on, Daryl is less than stable. You have to see that."

Turning her back to Maggie, she began pulling her pajamas from the basket of folded clothes she didn't have the energy to actually put away,

"He's trying! He's changed, he's grown up. But you don't wanna see that. You just want to paint him as the monster of my story."

"He's trying? That's enough for you? For Billie?" Maggie asked, doubtful.

Normally she'd find a way to avoid another argument with Maggie. Not tonight though, she'd had enough.

She straightened and tossed the clothes on her bed and faced Maggie. When they were young they argued a lot. Maggie was a second mother in a lot of ways to Beth. Being six years older Maggie thought it was her job to watch over her, to boss her around. This was different. Maggie continued to cross a line she had no business crossing.

"Yes, yes that is enough for us. This has to stop, Maggie. Billie is the best thing to ever happen to me. But you keep feeling the need to remind me of how she's the result of Daryl's being a screw up. It's not okay! I don't want her to ever feel like she wasn't wanted."

"Of course she's wanted," Maggie backpedaled. "She's the best thing that's happened to all of us. We love her so much."

Beth would never regret having Billie. Never. Maggie couldn't seem to understand that. She was too busy being pissed off about Daryl.

"And," Beth went on. "Daryl is her father. He _wants_ to be her father. I won't have you talking badly about him anymore."

Maggie opened her mouth to speak then stalled, narrowing her eyes at Beth. "You still love him, don't you?" She sighed begrudgingly, putting a hand to her forehead.

Beth turned away again. "That's not your business."

"But Daryl..."

"But nothing. He's her father. I won't prevent him from being in our life. If you don't support that then that's your problem. Not mine." Having said her peace, she snatched her pajamas off her bed and escaped past Maggie again, shutting herself off in the bathroom.

* * *

It was late by the time Beth settled into bed. Her mind, a whirlwind of thought, her heart full but heavy at the same time. She doubted she'd get much sleep. She was angry at Maggie, but she hoped maybe something of what she said would sink in.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, thinking Daryl would be fast asleep and not see her text till the morning, she typed out, " _Had a good time tonight."_

She had so much more she wanted to say but chose to play it safe.

Playing it safe seemed to be their new motto. They'd never really done anything safely before. They'd been young and reckless, they thought they were invincible. They didn't worry about the future and tried not to think about the past.

They lived in less than safe neighborhoods. Had unprotected sex more often than not. After a point, she stopped taking her birth control completely. They moved around too much to see a doctor and it just wasn't in the budget. Daryl was a drug dealer for heaven's sake.

This was a new chapter for both of them.

To her surprise, Daryl texted back a moment later. " _Me too. Billie is something."_ Then another text came in right after. " _Just like her mama."_

Beth's face flushed needlessly. She sighed like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush. " _She's got a little of her dad in her too."_

" _Want to see ya tmr if that's okay,"_ he responded.

" _Course it's okay."_

In just a few words, Daryl settled her. She would be able to fall asleep quickly rather than tossing and turning, irritated over Maggie.

 _Something wrong?_ He asked.

She thought about telling him about Maggie and their argument. How she'd finally put her in her place. Then decided against it. Dragging him into her family drama didn't seem right.

 _Nothings wrong. We'll see you tmr_.

Three dots blinked on the screen then, _See you._


	18. She Stopped Singing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are happy with this chapter. Thanks for reading!  
> The song is Didn’t Leave Nobody But The Baby by EmmyLou Harris, Allison Krause and Gillian Welch. One my favorites.

**I hope you all are happy with this chapter. Thanks for reading!**

**The song is Didn't Leave Nobody But The Baby by EmmyLou Harris, Allison Krause and Gillian Welch. One my favorites.**

* * *

It was another month or so before Daryl got the time off to visit Merle. It takes three hours to get there, three to get back. Six hours in the car for a thirty minute visit.

He didn't mind. It was the least he could do. Daryl had his freedom. Freedom and Beth and Billie. He also had a job that wasn't turning out to not be as bad as he initially thought.

Abraham wasn't just a boss. He was fair, understanding and a friend. Going as far as to invite him and Beth and Billie over for dinner with his family. And Magna was turning out to be someone he considered a friend as well. A friend whose main concern was _not_ getting wasted. That was very important to him these days.

He also had his house. A place to live, something he'd lacked in the last four years or so. After Beth and Billie visited he started working on a mini renovation. Pulling up old carpet. Painting the second bedroom the color of warm cream. Got a few kid's toys to have around for Billie. They'd since visited a couple more times and Beth seemed happy with his effort.

The prison was just like it was the last time he was there. Large and foreboding. He went through the security check, leaving everything including his belt and pocket knife in his truck. He didn't want to risk non entrance over something little.

He then waited in the waiting room for almost an hour on a tiny bench with other people waiting to visit their loved ones. Finally, he was allowed admittance into the visitation room and waited there another fifteen minutes.

Soon Merle appeared scanning the room, giving Daryl a familiar grin when he saw him. Daryl sighed his relief. He'd been dreading coming here for mostly selfish reasons. Not wanting to take off of work. Not wanting to go through a day without seeing Beth or Billie. Not wanting to rub it in his brother's face that he was on the outside while Merle was stuck on the inside. Seeing Merle he realized he was happy he'd came.

Merle slid into the bench across the table. They weren't allowed to touch, they most likely wouldn't have embraced each other anyway. Probably just a pat on the shoulder or a slap on the back

The chilly room reminded Daryl of a bomb shelter. Essentially a box made from cement. Concrete floors painted a dull green. The walls were made from cinder blocks painted yellow, now dirtied, cracked, and weak. The paint was peeling and dusting onto the floor. The tables were secured to the ground as were the bench seats

Two men stood guard. One at the door and one at the other end of the room, looking simultaneously bored and pissed off. It made him feel claustrophobic. He wanted desperately to leave, wanted desperately to stay with Merle

"Little brother," Merle said in his loud, boisterous way. "It's damn good to see ya'. I know you a busy man 'n all but it's been a long time."

"I know. I'm sorry 'bout that. I been getting settled back home." Daryl leaned forward on the hard plastic bench, getting a good look at Merle. His hair was cropped close, what little remained was stark white. The lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper, more pronounced. He'd aged since he was in jail. But there was color in his cheeks and his eyes were clear. Bright. He looked about as healthy as Daryl had seen him look in his adult years.

Merel held up a hand. "Whatever man, I get it. Don't gotta explain nothin' to me."

Daryl mentally questioned whether he 'got it' or not. Deciding to take what he said at face value, he asked, "How are ya'? How are things here?"

"Shitty," Merle said with a bitter laugh. "The foods terrible. The sorry excuse for a mattress they got me sleeping on is killin' my back. Jus' 'bout everybody is pissed off 'bout somethin' or 'nother and wants to fight. I'm gettin' too old for that shit."

Daryl wanted to fix it for him. Merel was the older brother, Daryl was more the caretaker of the two. Since their parents died Daryl was sure they had vehicles to drive. Made sure the lights stayed on at home, made sure they had food to eat. But what could he do this time? Demand better food?

"Tell me 'bout home," Merle suggested when Daryl faltered, unsure what to talk about.

"Well, the house is still standin', surprisingly not in bad shape. Been working on it when I got the time and funds."

"Uh huh. It's got good bones," Merle parroted Beth.

Daryl smiled to himself.

"You workin'? Last time Shane called he said something about having a legit job? I didn't believe him. Told him he was full a shit."

Merle. Always honest.

Daryl nodded and went on to tell him about his job at the recycling center, keeping Shane and his visit out of the discussion.

Merle wrinkled up his brows. "Why the hell you working there?"

It was no surprise that he wouldn't understand why Daryl was working there. He went for the simplest of explanations. "Not many more appealing options."

"Sure there are."

Daryl knew what he meant. He didn't want to discuss it. He wasn't going back to selling. It wasn't even a question at this point.

Instead, Daryl steered the conservation back to the house, and to the town and how much it's changed.

"I'm tellin' ya' man, you wouldn't even recognize the town. All these fancy stores. Oh, and the truck stop? Now it's some fancy brewery."

"Get the fuck out," Merle said, letting the conversation of Darly's employment drop.

"Magna, you remember her? She's a bartender there."

"What the hell she doin' outta jail?" Merle wondered. "Didn't she kill a guy?"

Daryl rolled his shoulder, thinking that was probably the wrong person to bring up. "They took into account the nature of the crime and her age."

"Well I'm fucked if I take into account my age," Merel said and they both laughed. It was one of those moments where if you didn't laugh you might cry. There was a chance Merle wouldn't make it out of jail. Not at his age and not with the hard life he's lived.

"But," Merle held up a finger, pausing for a second for dramatic effect. He had always been a good story teller. "There's a chance I might be able to get out early."

"What? Way to bury the fucking lead!" Daryl said. This was something you brought up first and foremost. It even warranted a call home.

Merle chuckled, nodding his head. "Yep. Seems I might have a chance of makin' parole. My lawyer said something about non violent offenders being let out because a' overcrowding. I know it's hard to believe but your big brother has been behavin' his self here, for the most part. Like a good little boy. I sold a few pills to someone with a badge that anyone could get from their doctor. Weren't no violent crime."

"Well, shit that'd be great. What can I do to help?" His initial thought was to get him out as quickly as possible. "You give me the lawyer's number, I'll try callin' him. See what I can find out."

Then the reality of Merle being out slowly sunk in. He wondered silently how it would affect his life. Beth probably wouldn't approve of an ex-felon being around Billie.

"I'd 'preciate that brother,'' Merle spoke sincerely. "Here's his number." Merle passed a business card over to Daryl. "He's a do-gooder type. He sought me out after hearing about my case. He says it's unconstitutional slapping me with the sketch that judge did."

It did seem excessive. Even to Daryl who admittedly didn't know much about the law.

"Shit. That's really great."

One step at a time. He'd talk to the lawyer first and go from there.

They had about ten minutes to go before their hour was up. Daryl suddenly felt the need to share a bit of his life and what it had become with his brother. It was a complete one-eighty compared to what it had been. If he finds out now it won't be such a shock if he gets out.

Daryl pulled the photo of him, Beth and Billie from his back pocket. The one from the Fourth of July. Beth had printed it out for him.

He wasn't sure how to tell Merle he was a dad, wasn't sure what he'd have to say about it. As much as he didn't want it to, Merle's opinion mattered greatly. That was his main incentive for joining the club. He knew Merle would approve.

Any major decision in his life there was always Merle in the back of his mind making Daryl second guess everything.

He passed the photo to Merle and he glanced at it, then picked it up, bringing it in for a closer look.

"Beth?" He asked. "She looks the same," he wagged his eyebrows at Daryl. Daryl chucked, rolled his eyes in return.

"That your kid?" Merle asked.

When Daryl didn't answer right away Merle looked at him, then back to the photo, then back to Daryl.

"Don't know if Shane told ya," Daryl said then nodded his answer, running his thumbnail along a crack in the plastic table. Reserved, uncertain, and strangely shy.

Yet proud. Proud that he created something, through no effort of himself, so pure.

"Shane didn't say anything 'bout this." He flipped the picture around for Daryl to see as if he hadn't seen it before. Daryl told him the short version of seeing Beth and Billie at the lumber yard and knowing that Billie was his.

What was interesting, the more he talked the more Merle didn't look surprised.

"Guess that pregnancy test was positive."

"What?" Daryl asked, stunned. The hair on his neck stood up, his stomach dropped.

"The test I found in the trash after we got back home and Beth was gone. I didn't know what the hell the blue plus sign meant. Ain't took too many pregnancy tests in my life," he tried to joke.

Pregnancy test? In the trash? "Why the hell didn't ya' tell me?"

"Figured it was for the better. She was always smarter than us, knew Dixon's weren't meant to be fathers. Or uncles."

"But I _am_ a father. She's an amazing little girl." He paused, trying to find a way to explain it to Merle so he'd understand. Words failed him. Instead, he said, "Her name is Billie."

"Cute kid," he commented looking at the picture again. "Got the Dixon nose. So where does that leave you and Beth?"

He didn't answer Merle's question. He didn't need to. There was no sense in trying to deny how he felt about Beth. Least of all to Merle. When he was young he could lie his way out of any situation. Everyone believed him or didn't care to dispute him. Except Merel. He knew when Daryl was fibbing.

"Daryl," Merle said, leaning forward, speaking in his ' _I know you better than you know yourself'_ way. "Beth took off on you. You remember that? You were devastated. You've always had a thing for her. I get it, she's hot. But you need to think with your head, not your dick. She's just like any other woman. Using you to get what she can get. Are you even sure this kid is yours?"

"Watch it, Merle," Daryl grumbled no louder than a whisper. Raising his voice wasn't needed. Merle could say what he wanted, to a point. "Beth and Billie are off limits." He snatched the picture back and put it in his back pocket.

"All's I'm sayin' is for all you know Beth screwed around on you, got herself pregnant by someone else then she took off when she realized what she'd done. And now,"

Daryl interrupted him. "What the fuck do you know?" Instead of anger, the words came out quiet. Wounded. Beth wasn't that type. She was better than that.

"You 'member I was there to pick you up off the floor when she left ya'. I'm the one that took care of you."

This wasn't exactly a lie. More of an exaggeration of the truth. Merle was there for him. Took him out drinking. Got him drunk and stoned enough that he didn't even know his own name let alone remember Beth's.

When the alcohol, as well as the pills and weed, wore off he sure the hell remembered Beth and remembered she was gone. Every time he sobered up he came crashing back to a level of devastation so heavy he could hardly move. Yet, he couldn't force himself to call her. So, he tried to never be sober. It went on like that for a long time, up until Merle was arrested.

A part of him slipped away after she left. He no longer cared about anything. He didn't care about making money. Didn't care about the club. Didn't care if he pissed off Negan.

"Now this time, when she ditches you again," Merle went on, "I probably won't be there to help you because I'm stuck here. You just keep that in mind."

"There's not a day I don't remember where you are and why. But this is somethin' you don't know nothin' 'bout," Daryl said, standing.

"Aw man, don't be that way," Merle said, his voice raspy, the voice of someone that has smoked since he was thirteen but there was also a tinge of regret. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."

"I gotta go," Daryl said, turning his back on his brother walking away, blood simmering. "I'll call the lawyer." That's what Merle was actually concerned about. Not Beth. Not Billie.

* * *

Daryl entered the house through the back door. It was quiet, dark save for a light in the kitchen above the sink. Everyone already retired to their own rooms for the night.

On his way back from the prison, just before he hit town, he pulled over and called Beth. He should have waited at least until morning to come here. Or not at all. The visit with Merle left him on edge and he needed to see Beth.

She said to come right over and that the back door would be unlocked. She said to come upstairs.

Said she'd be waiting.

He climbed the stairs, trying to step lightly. His boots sounded unnaturally loud on the wood treads. At the landing, he heard Beth. She was signing. A sound he hadn't heard in years.

At some point, she stopped singing.

Daryl couldn't recall exactly when. Since he'd known her she'd always had a tune to hum, a song to sing. A note to strum on her guitar.

When they moved he promised once they were settled he'd get her a new guitar because they couldn't bring hers along with. They were never settled long enough and he quickly forgot his promise. He reneged on a lot of things, this was one of many.

He followed the sweet, melodic voice down the hall, peeing through a door, open just a crack, in which the sound emitted. Beth had her hair up and wore short cotton shorts and a baggy t-shirt. She slowly swayed with Billie cradled in her arms. Love radiated from her.

 _Fuck_ , he missed her. Missed being able to touch her. Kiss her. Love her.

Was it possible to be homesick for a sound? Homesick for a person standing a few feet from you.

And she sang again.

 _Go to sleep you little babe  
_ _Go to sleep you little babe_

 _Everybody's gone in the cotton and the corn  
_ _Didn't leave nobody but the baby  
_ _You're sweet, little babe_

 _You're sweet, little babe  
_ _Honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop  
_ _Gonna' bring a bottle to the baby_

He watched as she settled Billie down into her crib. Covered her and gazed affectionately at her a moment before turning. Her breath catching when she saw him. She didn't say anything, only motioned for him to follow her into her own room.

"Billie alright?" He questioned. He remembered Beth mentioning Billie slept well.

"Yeah. Just had a bad dream or something."

He nodded his relief, took in his surroundings.

A dim lamp sat on a nightstand giving the room a warm glow. Pale yellow walls, a mussed quilt on the bed. A rocking chair with a hooded sweatshirt draped over the armrest. Beth sat on the bed, grabbed a pillow, and held it to her middle, hugging it lightly.

He wandered to the dresser and picked up a photo of Beth and Billie when Billie was maybe one. Small, but partially blurry, the camera was too slow to catch her wiggly image. Both were smiling at an inside joke he wasn't a part of. Billie's head tilted back, Beth leaning down towards her ear, telling her something.

Beth watched him, waiting. He put the photo back down and sat in the rocking chair in the corner. The bed was too intimate. Too close to Beth.

The nearest bedroom was Billie's. Annette's bedroom was downstairs as the stairs were hard on her knees and Maggie and Glenn slept upstairs in the attic space that had been reverted to a larger bedroom for the two of them. Still, they spoke in the hushed tones that night time required.

"How is Merle?" She asked.

"Merle's Merle," he said by way of an avoidant answer. "He's fine."

She chewed her bottom lip. "That's good to hear."

Merle worried her. The hold he seemed to have on Daryl worried her. At first, she and Merle got along then as time went on and things went from bad to worse they mostly ignored one another. He was a loose cannon. Always made poor decisions that ultimately affected Daryl and then Beth. She wasn't happy he was in jail but she hoped the space did Daryl some good.

"You sounded upset on the phone."

"I just wanted to talk to ya'," he said. When things got hard or when he was uncertain about something, one person came to mind and that was Beth. She always listened to him. Gave him sound advice. He hadn't always heeded that advice. Now he was determined not to take it or her for granted.

"He knew," Daryl said without looking at Beth.

"What do you mean? What did he know?"

"Merle knew you were pregnant. He didn't tell me."

Beth thought back to the day she took the pregnancy test. She'd been so upset she tossed it in the trash and never gave it a second thought. She had bigger things to worry about than taking the bin out to the container outside. And, no she wasn't surprised Merle didn't tell him.

"Oh," Daryl," she said, wanting to say the right thing. Wondering what he needed to hear.

"Would you'd still have left if I'd been the one to find the test before you took off?" He questioned, his eyes finally meeting hers.

Beth watched him, his face shadowed, shoulders hunched, leaning forward. He looked awkwardly big in the rocking chair.

"Yes," she finally answered, ultimately she probably would have,

"Would you have asked me to go with you?" He questioned. No more hedging the hard questions.

"No. I wouldn't have asked you to leave with me. Not because I didn't want you to but because I didn't want to make you choose between me and Merle."

Daryl nodded. He wasn't angry, though maybe he should be. It was a tough pill to swallow - her leaving him that way but she understood the complexity of he and Merle's brotherhood better than he did.

"Would you have let me go?" She questioned. "Let me go without a fight."

Though it hurt, he looked her in the eye. "I don't know," he answered honestly. He marveled at what a selfish son of a bitch he was back then.

Beth stood from the bed and went to him, kneeling in front of him. She placed a tentative hand on his knee, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jeans.

"You were mixed up. I was too. But I know you. I know what's in here," she rested her hand on his chest. His heart beat strong. "You're a good man."

How could she be so sure? "You must see something in me I don't."

"I see you. I see who you really are." Going with her hunch that his self-doubt was coming from Merle, she went on to say, "Daryl, I don't know what Merle said, but you gotta stop listening to him. He has this way of sabotaging you for whatever reason. You have to separate yourself from that."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? It's my fault he's there. He has a right to say whatever he wants."

"No," Beth said confidently. "No, it's not your fault. He was the one who sold to an undercover cop. You didn't make him do that, did you? You didn't hand him the bag of pills. You did not force his hand. What he was doing was illegal, that's why he went to jail. It's time to stop blaming yourself."

He smiled sadly, brushing a wayward hair from her face. "You got it all figured out, don't ha'?"

"Hardly," she smiled back. "I'm terrified." The fear she felt had weighed her down for so long, she hadn't realized how heavy it was until it was out in the open.

"Terrified? Of what?"

"Of your rejection."

They both had their insecurities. They wanted to do what was best for Billie. But where did that leave them?

"If I told you I was pregnant and you sent me away, choosing to stay with Merle. I'd…" her words trailed off. "It would have been too much."

He wanted to say he wouldn't have done that. If he did say as much, he'd be afraid he'd be lying.

"And what about now?" He asked. "Are you afraid now?"

"Yes, I am," she let out a shaky breath, a small laugh.

"You're afraid I'll leave Billie?" He asked.

"I don't think you'll leave Billie. I was at first. Not now," she admitted. "Now I'm afraid you'll leave me. Go on with your life with Billie, creating the family I always wanted with you but with someone else and I'll be left in the background." She signed. "It sounds so selfish hearing it out loud."

He deserved to be happy. Billie deserved a happy father. Was it selfish to think _What about me_? _What about how I feel about Daryl?_

"Beth," he said pleadingly. He hung his head slightly, wishing he had the words to express what he felt for her. Instead, he leaned forward, placed his hands on either side of her face, fingers grasping lightly at her hair. He leaned his brow to hers. "I ain't goin' nowhere. Booze. Drugs. Pills. All of it I can leave behind me, safely tucked into my past. You're a part of my past I can't quit."

"Do you wish you could leave me in the past?" She asked, afraid of the answer. "Do you want to quit me?"

"No," he said without hesitation. "I want you in my life. I want _you_."

It was enough for her. It was all she needed. She leaned forward, quietly placing her lips to his. At first, he didn't respond. Undeterred, she angeled her head, taking his chiseled jaw in her hands, a day's worth of stubble brushing her palms. She slipped her tongue into his mouth.

A groan came from somewhere deep within him as his tongue began to dance with hers. Her arms slipped around his shoulders, his around her waist as they came together. Heat kindling from their bodies.

Abruptly he pulled back, sucking in a breath. "No, no, no."

"No?" She questioned, startled.

"I ain't this kinda guy."

"What kinda guy?" She asked, thoroughly confused. She wanted him desperately. The touch of his skin on hers, his lips, his tongue. His hardened dick as he slips inside her. She wanted it all.

"The kind of guy that moves in on someone else's girlfriend. I may have been that person once a long time ago but I'm tryin' to be better. No matter how badly I want you, I can't do this to you and Glenn."

"Glenn?" Beth asked, baffled, lips still stinging.

"Yeah, whatever is between you it's obviously serious."

"Between us?" Her brows drew together forming a crease in between them. "Wait," she said, her frown turning into a smirk, then a little chuckle. "You think," she said before her own laughter interrupted her.

"What's so funny?" He asked, affronted.

"There is no 'me and Glenn'. Glenn is Maggie's husband. He and I aren't involved."

"Woman, what the hell ya' tryin' to say?"

She nodded. "They got married while I was away. He's my brother in law, Billie's uncle, and nothing more." Now she was laughing so hard she could barely get the words out. "I'm sorry," she hiccuped, waving a hand in the air trying to get a breath. "All this time? You thought Glenn and me, that we were what? That he was my boyfriend?"

Daryl, not knowing whether to laugh or be pissed, said, "Well, damn. It ain't _that_ funny."

In between laughs, her words stopping and starting, she said, "I'm sorry, I'll stop now. You're right It's not funny." But it kind of was and felt good to laugh. "Glenn is like a brother to me."

"Alright, laugh it up," Daryl said, a smile creeping to his lips. He stood, brushing past Beth. She lost her footing and fell onto the floor from her kneeling position on her ass. This brought up even more laughter.

He looked down at her, trying unsuccessfully to hide his amusement. "I should leave," he threatened but there was no real potency to his threat.

Giving up he finally let himself smile at her. A rumble of a laugh escaped his chest. It was a bit ridiculous, he admitted to himself. If he would have just asked her months ago instead of assuming.

"For fucks sake, Beth," he said a moment before swooping down and grasping her hands, helping her to her feet.

Standing in front of him, her fingers intertwined with his and suddenly she was no longer laughing. Her eyes still sparkled only this time it was with something other than humor.

"Now that you know, what are you gonna' do about it?"


	19. Better Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry. I hope you all don't hate me. Instead of stalling, I think I'll just wrap this one up with this chapter. Thanks so much for reading/commenting!

"Now that you know, what are you gonna' do about it?" She asked, a little breathless.

Now that things were out in the open, they couldn't ignore how they felt any longer. Couldn't stuff everything back inside. He took a step closer, trailing his hand over her delicate wrist and up her arm coming to rest splayed on her neck. His thumb under her chin, angling it slightly up.

"I honestly don't know." Truth be told the possibilities scared the hell out of him. Being with Beth again after all this time? Hell, yes. Screwing things up was something he definitely didn't want to do.

He leaned forwarded and their lips barely touched but his eyes unconsciously closed and her body sunk into his. Tightening his grip on her neck, he pulled her even closer. She stood on her toes, locking her arms around his shoulders. Their mouths parted, tongues danced. Her fingers edged into his hair, curled around the shaggy ends, tugging lightly.

It was soft and innocent, the kiss. More erotic than anything she'd experienced before. Familiar yet different. He felt it too, she was almost sure of it, because when they pulled apart moments later a slight tremor fluttered through him.

She was barefoot and he wore his work boots and he towered over her. Strong and tall and finally… _there_. Not just sharing the same space in the literal sense, not just there for Billie. He was there _with_ Beth.

"Should I go?" He questioned.

"No, stay. I want you to stay."

He didn't want to go either. The want, the need, to lay her down and do what he knew they both wanted was overpowering. There was so much at stake. As much as he hated to admit it, Merle was right. He needed to think with his brain, not his dick. Not because he was afraid Beth was using him, as Merle suggested, but because he didn't want to screw things up. This, whatever this was, was too important.

"I think we need ta' take it slow." _Slow_? What the fuck is he talking about? Even to his own ears, the word sounded foreign.

"Slow?" Beth smiled seductively. She grasped his wrist and pulled as she walked backward to her bed. "Sure. We can go slow." She kneeled on the edge of the mattress, pulling him to her.

"Beth," he said against her lips. "This is not what I meant." His hands as if of their own accord roamed over her body. Her hip, her ass. Squeezing her breast. Either he or Beth, maybe both, worked her shirt up over her head, she bared herself to him barechested, tiny shorts covering her ass.

He worked at the hem of his shirt, hesitating before Beth pushed it up over his head, parting only for the second it took to remove it. He wanted to be sure, wanted this to be more purposeful, more meaningful than the first time they had sex years ago. It wasn't that their first time hadn't been meaningful, but they were young and restless and wanted sex because it felt good, not because they were in love. The love came later.

Now they were starting out with love.

"Shouldn't we, I dunno, talk 'bout this?" He questioned. _Talk about it?_ He never wanted to talk before. Especially about sex. It just sort of happened.

"I'm tired of talking." At this point, she just wanted to act.

Daryl kneeled on the bed in front of her, face to face. "When I lost you I thought I'd never get a second chance. Hell, I thought I'd never see you again. Now I don't wanna fuck this up. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," she said with certainty. He detected no wavering in her eyes. "I want you more than I ever have."

Her words, the certainty in her eyes, was all he needed. He wound his arms around her, laying her down onto the bed. They'd figure this out, they'd find a way. He crushed his mouth to hers and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. The sudden sharp demand of his body pushed all coherent thought from her mind.

His tongue tangled hotly with hers sending an impassioned ache traveling down to the throb between her thighs. She moved under him, arched her hips against his middle. His rough jeans through the thin fabric of her shorts.

She moaned his name. _Daryl_.

This had to be a dream. At any moment, he was sure he'd wake up in that nasty old apartment he shared with his brother in Atlanta. He was sure he'd hear Merle snoring in the next room. But this felt too good to be anything but real.

He had to hold back to keep himself from rushing too far, too fast. Beth was undoing him, step by step. It took only her moan to drive him crazy and he reached between them, shoving down her shorts. He wanted nothing between them.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his back, over the scars that his father had put there. He'd been self-conscious about it at first, now around her, they hardly crossed his mind.

His muscles quivered under her hands. The soft light coming from the bedside light made her sun-streaked hair halo around her head, her complexion of porcelain touched with rose. The light to Daryl's darkness.

His hands skimmed over her skin to her breasts, kneading, squeezing her nipples to firm points. His mouth traveled down, using his tongue and sucking firmly.

Beth impatiently fought with his belt. Together they somehow managed to unbuckled it and he shoved at his jeans, kicking them off along with his boots, and suddenly after close to three years, they were together.

He stalled momentarily, leaning up on his knees, taking in the view. He was grateful when she didn't cover herself. Her hips curved a bit more, her breasts were fuller. But she was just as he remembered. Perfect in his eyes. He laid back over her, covering her body with his, and slid into her. He was finally home.

"I want you to know, I ain't been with anyone since you," he said, unsure why he felt the need to tell her this. It seemed important that she know.

He'd been waiting for her, hoping somehow, someway they'd find a way back to each other. And if they didn't, then he was set up for a life of celibacy - he didn't want anyone but her.

"I love you, Daryl," she said, having saved up the words, thinking she'd never say them again.

She'd hadn't outwardly acknowledged it but she'd been waiting for him too. Maybe they were meant to walk a different path so they could find each other in a better place. If she had stayed, their relationship would have imploded with Billie right in the middle of it. Instead of falling apart, things were falling into place. Now, together, they could move forward.

* * *

"We're having sleepovers now?"

Daryl was almost to the door, had his hand in the doorknob when Maggie's stoney voice echoed through the quiet early morning silence. He hadn't meant to stay the night. They fell asleep and the next thing he knew it was morning. He slipped out of Beth's bed, peeked in on Billie, sleeping like the angel she is, he forced himself to leave the room. Knowing he'd see them later in the day didn't help the reluctance he felt leaving his girls.

Carrying his boots, he made his way as quiet as possible down the stairs. He wasn't really worried about getting caught. He just wanted to be respectful and not wake anyone. Maggie was the last person he wanted to see.

"Mornin' Maggie," Daryl said congenitally only because he knew it would piss her off. Since he was busted he may as well have a seat at the bench by the door and put his boots on.

"Well isn't this just great," she snarled leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, an apple in her hand waiting to be eaten.

It _was_ great if you asked him. A dream he hadn't dared to dream was coming true. Having Beth back in his life was the miracle he didn't foresee and didn't think he deserved.

"Why you so hell-bent on making your sister's life miserable?" He asked nonchalantly, slipping a pantleg over his boot.

"That appears to be your job, Mister."

Boots on he stood and walked to her, towering uncomfortably close. He angled his head down to look her in the eyes.

"Last night she didn't seem too miserable," he boldly whispered and taking advantage of her shocked state he snatched the apple out of her hand and crunched into it. "Have a great day," he said around the bite, "'Cause I know I will."

No one could ruin this day. Not even Maggie.

When he left, breathing in the cool morning air, a smile spread his lips and he didn't know if he'd ever been quite this happy. No, he was quite sure, he'd never been this happy.

* * *

It was six months later before Daryl finally convinced Beth to marry him.

Maggie and Glenn had moved into the newly renovated bunkhouse that was on the property but conveniently a half-mile away. Just far enough. Maggie had mellowed considerably. Still, they'd never be best friends. Glenn, on the other hand, was a good guy and Daryl helped him whenever he got the chance to get the bunkhouse suitable for them to live in.

Merle, recently paroled, was staying at the house they grew up in. He was kind and gentle with Billie. Softening his gruff voice just for her. Though Daryl wasn't around much, they knew Merle would benefit from living on his own. He needed his own space to figure out what's next.

One cold fall night it was partially hard to leave Beth and go back to his house to sleep alone in his bed. She wrapped herself around him, trying to convince him to stay. His whole body filled with fire for her. He equally didn't want to leave. He had work the next day and had to get some sleep. He reluctantly sat up, searching for his clothes.

"Move in," Beth said on a puff of air she'd been holding.

Pulling his shirt over his head to fight off the chill after leaving the warm bed and Beth's equally warm body. "What? Move here?" He questioned over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Here with me and Billie. And Mama," she added with a laugh. "She won't care. She adores you." True enough. She developed a soft spot for Daryl and his quiet smile and kind ways.

Beth kneeled behind Daryl, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I want you here when we wake up. When we go to bed. Not just on the weekends. I want you here all of the time."

"Well," he said, reaching for a wayward sock, feigning nonchalance when really his heart beat so hard he feared it might jump out of his chest and flop around on the floor. "I guess since you wanna' shack up, we should get married first."

Part of him would always wonder what she was doing with a guy like him. She made him a better man, made him _want_ to be a better person. For her sake and for Billie's sake.

Everything fell into place, dare he thought, the way it was supposed to. Can't skip ahead to the future. No sense living in the mistakes of the past. The old saying was true - the only way out is through.

* * *

"How are you holding up,' Beth asked in a quiet, tired voice.

"Me?" Daryl asked, ever impressed by her ability to be in the situation she was in and yet still worry about him. "I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'm fine," she said with a weak smile.

"You got this," he reassured. "I know you do." Running a hand over her wild hair. She'd been at this for hours and seemed to be getting tired. He spoke the truth, he wasn't scared and he knew she could do this. He had no doubt in her ability, but it's been a long day and if he was tired he couldn't imagine how she must feel.

She was small in that bed, propped up by the incline of the mattress, hugging her basketball-sized belly every time a contraction took hold of her body. Her eyes would become focused and distant and she'd breath in through her nose and hum out on the exhale. Then when the pain passed, she would lay back onto the bed, closing her eyes. Resting for a brief moment.

He hadn't left her side since he got to the hospital. She'd already been there an hour at that point when he got there. She said she wanted to make sure it wasn't false labor (like last week) before calling him at work. He told her to call him anytime, it didn't matter if it was false labor or the real thing, he wanted to be there. He wasn't about to miss any part of his second child's birth.

Missing Billie's birth gave him a different perspective. Made him realize how important this moment in time was. Seeing Beth change and grow, feeling the baby move, it made him see just how much he missed. It made him be all the more attentive. he became the type to feel the baby kick, the type to cater to Beth's every craving. The guy who went baby clothes shopping. Painting the nursery, putting together the crib as well as the bassinet that would be in their room for the first few months. Anything that needed tending to, he did it. No questions asked. It wasn't about him. It was about Beth and the baby.

Now it was getting dark out and still no baby. Beth and the doctors assured him that everything was fine. Supposedly sometimes labor takes days. _Days_. He wasn't sure he could handle days. Both mom and baby were doing great. Vitals were strong and the baby's heartbeat could be heard over the monitor. It was good and strong. They all reassured him, but he could see it in Beth's eyes she was starting to wane a little.

She kept going, though. He supposed she didn't have much choice in the matter. There was no stopping baby boy Dixon. He was fit to be born this day.

The contractions were about on top of one another with only a moment's breather in between. Beth settled into herself, even in between the contractions only talking when she had to. She surprised him when her tiny voice asked him how he was doing. Why was she worried about him right now? This, he knew, was just who she was. Always caring. Stronger than he ever gave her credit for before.

In the beginning of her pregnancy when morning sickness lasted all day, she refused to stop working at the coffee shop. Daryl would almost have to beg her to just go lay down, take a break. Up until the very end when she left the coffee shop for maternity leave and exhaustion won her over, she'd only rest for a short time before getting back up.

They were having a boy. A boy they would name Beau Daryl Dixon.

It was surreal - the baby finally being born one day past his due date. Time in the past few months simultaneously dragged and sped by. They'd only been married a couple of months when they found out she was pregnant. Not that he minded, he just didn't think it would happen so quickly. Life was definitely a roller coaster of change.

After that first night together he was no longer stuck in the in between. He knew what he wanted. A life with Beth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading.


End file.
